


Endymion

by whisperingopal



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, B-side for a reason, Dialogue Heavy, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Existential Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I cannot write sex scenes to save my life, Inspired by Novel, Love Triangles, Not Canon Compliant, Novel Only Characters, Portals, Profanity, Unrequited Love, V Is His Own Person, Weird Plot Shit, Why Did I Write This?, Work In Progress, soft!V
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingopal/pseuds/whisperingopal
Summary: IMPORTANT: This is an alternate Chapter 10 and onwards of On Another's Sorrow.  I highly recommend reading the whole of OAS first before reading this though.Reader, do you want to jump the shark with me?  Hoo-boy, this shit is out there. lol
Relationships: V (Devil May Cry)/Reader, V(Devil May Cry)/ Female Reader, Vergil (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:**

> Man, oh, man. Just wanted to say I took a LOT of liberties while writing this; so much so I wonder if a certain character resembles his in-game counterpart enough for this to even be believable. Haha. Ever since playing DMCV I have thought so much about what it means to be an individual that I think I gave myself an existential crisis! Also, I was inspired by the second novel which was kinda meh imo but nonetheless, credit where credit is due! This is still very much a work in progress so please bear with me.

You don't know how long you sat in bed as you let your tears flow freely; the dual rivulets streaming down your cheeks and pooling at the point of your chin where they fell in a steady patter onto the mattress below. The cheap cotton sheets drank up your tears and you watched with a nearly zen-like calm as the wet spot grew and grew, the moisture spreading in all directions even after no more tears fell from your eyes. You drew in a shuddering breath, wishing you could turn back the clock to yesterday evening when you still felt a sense of promise regarding your relationship with Vergil. You understood _why_ he had chosen you— really, you did. It was a pragmatic choice made by a practical man... but it didn't make it hurt any less. You knew that pain would follow you like an eternal whispering in your ear and you didn't want that; not for him _or_ yourself.

You pulled yourself together the best that you were able before heading to the room the twins shared. Your knocks were short and resolute but on the inside your stomach was churning, every second ripe with the promise of sick. You took no pleasure in what you were about to do, knowing full well that you were about to alter the course of your personal history forever. 

It was Vergil who answered, his silvered locks weighed down with moisture from his recent shower. One look at your poorly disguised distress and you saw a kind of knowing resignation pass over his features. The two of you went back to your room where you told him everthing; explained why you couldn't take your relationship any further and would never be able to. You could read nothing in those cool features of his as he simply nodded and left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.

***********

There was no adjective strong enough to describe how uncomfortable you were during the long drive back to Aporia. Every minute felt like an advanced exercise in self-control. Your flight or fight response blared like an internal siren in the back of your mind, never quieting the whole way back. When you and Dante switched seats in order to drive in shifts, it was a wonder that you didn't just break off in a mad sprint in some random direction. So when you pulled up to Vergil's home to the sight of a familiar camper van, any sort of panic that might have normally set in was replaced with a sort of relief; you'd take an awkward confrontation with Nero over the claustrophobic, heartwrenching emotions being near Vergil evoked in you. 

The second your hand found the handle you swung open the door and stepped out. 

"_____! Hey, you got a car!" The short haired demon hunter called out, already making his way over to you. He hadn't noticed your extra passengers... yet. You put on a brave face, unwilling to make your dear friend's imminent reunion with his uncle and father any more uncomfortable than it had to be.

"Sure did! Needed something to cart _these_ two knuckleheads around in!" 

Nero's forehead crumbled in confusion before the two older men exited the vehicle, your words serving as an introduction of sorts. He considered you for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

"And just how long have these two been here?"

"The whole time," you dropped your head apologetically, "I'm sorry for keeping it from you. I'm a bad friend. "

"Tch! I knew there was somethin' off about that call! Ah, whatever! I'm sure you had your reasons," Nero's eyes drifted from you over to his father and you felt your stomach drop. Luckily, any further comment the younger man might have made was cut off by the arrival of Nico and Kyrie. You pressed your lips together in a hard line as you tried to will the roiling of your stomach to cease. This was going to be a long day.

**********

When plans for dinner first began to crop up, you excused yourself to the bathroom, citing an urgent need to freshen up. You entered Vergil's room with every intention of doing exactly that, but the sight of the lavish room was all too much for you. Instead, you slipped on your heavy winter coat and slung your still packed bag over your shoulder, the latter action mostly out of habit. Then you dashed out the backdoor; the mental dam in your mind came tumbling down, flooding your head with all sorts of thoughts. How could you possibly continue to stay with the twin brothers now that things have turned out the way they had with Vergil? The answer was that you couldn't, of course. Where were you supposed to go? You were certain the Fortuna gang would welcome you back with open arms, but was it really right to place Nero in the middle of all that? You didn't want to be yet another obstacle that came in between the two men when they had their lion's share of problems already. 

The land came to a steep slope right before the forest's edge and you came to a halt. You leaned forward, bracing yourself with your legs as you breathed heavily; the rolling terrain you had just traversed was definitely not ideal for running. You slumped to the ground, a small "oof" escaping your lips as your bottom touched the dry autumn grass. You spied a cluster of small rocks and grabbed one and hurled it towards the forest. Was it a bit childish? Perhaps so, but you found the action cathartic nonetheless. You tossed another, this time calling out in order to vent your frustrations.

"Stupid _Vergil_!" 

Yet another rock left your hand, disappearing into the thick of the woods.

"Stupid _Mnemosyne_!"

"Stupid... me," your words lacked any fire and your throw even less, the stone barely clearing a couple of feet before falling in a sad arc.

"Ouch!" A voice called out making you scramble to your feet at once. You looked over the hill's overhang only to be greeted by a familiar figure.

"Vigna?" You could hardly believe it, but laying along the slope of the hill was the masked apprentice. Startled and more than a little embarassed, you began to make your way over to the man only to lose your footing. You slid down and landed flat on your ass in a spot not far from Vigna. You laid back and stared vacantly ahead; mortified and sullen.

"Would you believe that the very same thing happened to me?"

"No, I wouldn't," you flashed him a drawn smile, "sorry about the rock."

"I think I shall live to see another day."

"What are you doing out here anyway, Vigna?"

"I had... intended to drop in and touch base with you all but when I saw that you had company, I though the better of it. It would have been rude of me to disrupt a family reunion afterall," Vigna folded his gloved hands over his chest and was silent a moment before turning his head toward you, "I am more curious as to why you are out here, _____."

You looked blankly forward with an arm draped over your forehead, not wanting to look at the masked man. You inhaled deeply and sighed.

"Because I don't want to be there. In fact, I'd rather be almost anywhere else."

"Hmm... that is a shocking development. Last I saw you, you had seemed rather... _close_ with the elder Sparda twin. I don't wish to pry but perhaps whatever is happening between you will soon blow over?"

"It won't," your voice sounded alien to your own ears, so small and fragile. 

"'Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain clings cruelly to us,'" Vigna's voice was so soft you could scarcely make out the words that left his lips. He stood then and dusted himself in an exaggerated, almost theatrical manner.

"If you are... _serious_ in your wish to be anywhere else, I invite you to accompany me in my travels." 

Common sense would probably dictate that running off with a man whose face was a mystery to you probably wasn't a sound idea. However, he played a pretty instrumental part in Dante and Vergil's return to the human world and had been nothing but kind and helpful to you as well. He was an outsider to your group and operating alone; he could make more use of your help than the variable demi-gods that normally surrounded you and— you thought with a twinge— after today you were something of an outsider yourself. Besides, the demonic aura that emanated from the apprentice was oddly weak, worse case scenario you were pretty confident you could take him in a fight. You stood, mind made up.

"All right. Count me in."

Vigna's jaw slackened in what you could only assume to be surprise. 

"Right. Very well. Should you perhaps head back and inform your friends?"

You honestly didn't think you could handle a proper farewell to your friends right now, which _might_ have been a good argument for you not to go, but you wouldn't be swayed from your decision. Instead, you chose to do the admittedly cowardly thing and call Nico's carphone to leave a message. 

"I'm such an asshole," you muttered to yourself. You hoped your friends could forgive at least one more selfish act.

After your business was finished, Vigna placed a hand on your shoulder and before you could even register what was happening, the world around you began to blur. Frightened, you clutched onto the man for dear life. This turned out to be a needless gesture, however, as your surroundings began to stabilize soon after. Shell-shocked, you continued to grip onto him all the same. He smelled of the outdoors; of smoke and the earthen spice of leather. His heart, you noted, was beating just as quickly as yours. A heavy feeling of familiarity enveloped you like a leaden blanket but you snuffed out the thought almost violently. You let go of the man and retreated several steps just in time to see the shard in his hand dissipate into a puff of shimmery dust. 

"Damn. That must have been the last of its power."

"Is that— was that a shard of the _Yamato_?"

"It was. I had only used it a couple of times after escaping the Underworld. It seems I pressed my luck in choosing to use it again," Vigna rubbed his fingers together in an attempt rid them of the powdery residue, "At least it was for a worthy matter."

"Yeah, unlike being trapped in a bunker..."

"One mustn't reveal their hand too early. Besides, it worked out for the best."

"Jury's still out on that one, pal," you looked around, really considering your surroundings for the first time. Seated within a wooded area, it was unmistakably a campsite, rustic but expertly put together, "Nice place though; anything I can do to help out?"

"That depends... are you hungry?"

Your honest answer to that question would be a resounding "no" but you kept it to yourself. You didn't wish the man to forgoe a meal on your account. 

"I could eat."

"In that case, you could take that jug and fetch some water if you'd like. The stream is just over there," he nodded his head back to gesture behind him and having mentioned it, you were certain you could hear it babbling, "I'll ready everything else."

"No problem," you grabbed the container and you were off.

When you reached the stream you figured it as good as time as any to summon forth Phantom. You had been dreading his reaction to this sudden turn of events but it was a bridge you needed to cross. You stretched out a hand and called him forth in a manageable size roughly as big as a Newfoundland dog. 

"What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, Girl?"

Dipping the jug into the water, you looked back at the arachnid with a sheepish grin.

"So funny story..."

Suffice to say he did not find the story funny.

***********

In the end, Vigna had prepared a soup and although you had initially no desire for food, your stomach had different plans. You had no idea what was in it aside from some root vegetables but it had been delicious and the pair of you polished off the entire pot with ease. You sat now with a warm, full belly as nighttime fell around you.

"That was amazing, Vigna. I'm surprised you were able to whip together something so tasty!"

"Thank you. Believe me you would be singing a different tune were you around to try my cooking a couple of weeks ago," he grimaced, "it had been a while since I'd cooked with human ingredients."

"So, Vigna you're actually human, aren't you?"

"Am I?"

"Bah! Always dancing around the question!" Phantom sat near your feet, the crackling embers of the campfire making the spider glow more orange than usual, "and still you wear that mask! A man only wears a mask if he has something to hide!"

"Or protect," Vigna challenged gently, "I assure you I have my reasons," he sighed and stoked the fire before continuing, "This camp is secure so I suppose it's safe to explain myself at least a little. Thiriel... is my master's son. After our little chat in the attic, it's clear he loathes me out of nothing more than petty jealousy. He isn't aware of my identity outside of this disguise and I intend to keep it that way for now. "

"How can you be so sure that he doesn't know?" The words left your lips with nary a second thought.

"Because Thiriel is cruel and loves to make a spectacle out of the suffering of others."

It still begged the question of _why_ Vigna's identity would be a source of suffering for somebody. You tried to make sense of it, truly, but it just didn't add up. In any case, you weren't about to pressure him into anything; he would tell you more when he was ready and likely not a moment sooner. 

You felt a yawn coming on and failed to hold it at bay. It was long and quite louder than you had intended; tears welling in your eyes at the sheer force of it. Vigna chuckled, his laughter rich and pleasant to your ears.

"Feel free to call it a night if you are tired. I've already turned down the bedding in the tent for you to use."

"But what about you?"

"I shall be just fine. I have a spare bedroll and the fire should last the night."

"Take him up on his offer and get some rest, _____," Phantom's voice rumbled softly, "I shall stand watch, you have nothing to fear."

"Well, I'm not scared but... I guess I'll hit the hay," you stood and toed at the ground a bit shyly, "Good night, Vigna; Phantom."

"Good night."

*********

The bedding was unexpectedly comfortable and with how emotionally draining the day had been you were fully anticipating slipping into an immediate slumber. If only that were the case. You tossed and turned a bit before reaching for your phone. You knew full well that the battery was dead, discharged from traveling through the portal, but you checked anyhow hoping for a distraction. The phone was indeed unresponsive and you sighed as you tossed it gently to the side. 

The night grew no easier for you as unwanted thoughts crept into your mind; of Vergil and the other two Sparda men, of your friends in general and what they must be thinking about you. Then there was _another_ half-formed thought attempting to barge into your mind like a battering ram but you simply would _not_ allow it. However, it was persistent; you would drift asleep for a few minutes only for the thought to resurface like a beach ball dunked underwater. 

"Please just go to fucking sleep!" you snarled under your breath at one point. At least, you're pretty sure you said it outloud. Your crude parley with your own subconscious seemed to do the trick and for a time you fell into a sweet, black oblivion.

Sometime later you sprang up to a sit, brow clammy with a cold sweat. 

"Keats!" you shouted, "John Keats!"

The beach ball had not only resurfaced but had sprung out of the water and smacked you right in the face.


	2. Chapter 11

"Are you okay?" Vigna's voice came from right outside the tent's entrance, "May I come in?" 

You recalled Phantom to your person knowing he was too large at present for all three of you to fit in the tent. If things went south, you would need him at a moment's notice. You were shaking but you needed answers.

"Yeah."

Vigna poked his head in and then tentatively entered. He sat crossed legged in a spot not far from you, the tent not spacious enough to grant too much distance from each other. 

"Do you often have nightmares about dead Romantic poets?" He was attempting to defuse the the moment with humor but the timbre of his voice sounded nervous. Your gaze neglected his obscured eyes in favor of his full, rosy lips; you felt so stupid for not seeing it all sooner. You ignored his quip, choosing instead to get to the heart of the matter.

"Yesterday, you said you didn't want to crash the family reunion but... you've never met Nero. Nobody ever mentioned that he was related to anyone. You slipped up." Vigna remained silent so you continued, "My first thought was that Thiriel made you and sent you for some purpose, maybe as a spy. He said something about being able to create a perfect demonic copy of _him_ but... Trish is a created demon and your energy feels _different_. That brings us to the fact that you've been quoting John Keats at me this entire time. It's been too deliberate to be an accidental slip up and I don't believe in coincidences this big. A part of you _wanted_ me to know. Either that or I'm completely crazy."

"You aren't crazy."

His words were like a punch to the gut— maybe you would have preferred that you _were_ crazy.

"I _feel_ crazy."

"As a preface, I want to say I am not the same man you knew. The Vergil that you are acquainted with... the memories you share are with him."

You winced, his words salt in your wound. This didn't go unnoticed by Vigna.

"I... apologize. I only just realized that with Mnemosyne... he must've—"

"—It's fine. I'm more concerned with the matter at hand," you were impressed by your own impassive tone, while on the inside your feelings were tumultuous.

"...Right. Sorry."

He pulled down his hood then revealing jet black hair, the soft waves pulled back from his face in a short ponytail. Next, he pulled off the mask and sure enough the face the stared back at you was a perfect twin of the man you knew as V. You found yourself wishing you weren't confined to a tent so you could pace, your mind swarming with a million questions, your heart experiencing emotional whiplash. You bit down on your lip, hard, in an attempt to seal off the rapid fire of questions that threatened to spill from your mouth. Your eyes darted between the ground and his face as you found yourself at war with the overwhelming desire to take in every detail of his person and wanting to not look at him at all. 

"So who are you, Vigna? _What_ are you?"

"In the most basic sense, I am a less successful, less... _worthy_ version of the man you loved," his answer came out in that beloved, familiar lilt.

"Meaning?"

"In my timeline... my _universe_?" Gloved fingers found his hair as he wrestled with an appropriate explanation, "Where I'm from, I got _____ killed. I got _you_ killed."

Holy shit. He did tell you once his history was complicated and was apparently not exaggerating in the slightest. Perhaps this is exactly why they say to let sleeping dogs lie, not that it mattered now. Pandora's box had been opened and there was no sense in shutting it now. You looked the man up and down before settling your eyes on his melancholic face.

"That hardly seems to be the most significant of differences," you laughed a bit good naturedly.

"But it is! For me at least, it meant a world of difference," there was something so earnest and pure in his voice, in his wide green eyes, that you found yourself remembering the childish vision of Vergil you had encountered during your quest to form a contract with Phantom.

"I'm sure," You clasped a hand on the man's shoulder. You felt yourself easing into the conversation despite the craziness of it all, "but how did you not disappear? What happened to Vergil? How did you wind up here?"

His gazed fixed upon the hand on his shoulder for a moment before trailing up the length of your arm. Finally, his eyes met yours. 

"It would be easier to show you."

You retracted your hand, lips twitching in slight amusement. 

"You already made this joke."

He raised a brow.

"Who's joking?"

"All right," you challenged, "Do it; show me."

He removed his gloves, disrobing his long slender fingers; his face perfectly intense.

"Follow my lead."

He balled a hand into a fist and held it out. Uncertain of what else to do you touched your fist to his in a brief fist bump. Next, he turned his fist on its side and you followed suit. He bumped the top of your fist with his and you did so in kind. The two of you continued on in this fashion, acting out your own kind of secret handshake. You laughed; between the utter absurdity of the situation and Vigna's deadpan expression it was hard not to. The handshake ended with the two of you loosely curling your fingers together in a way that was almost like holding hands. 

"I thought this kind of thing didn't require a ritual?" you smiled slyly at him. He finally cracked, lips stretching into the smirk that you thought you'd never see again. He didn't answer your question, instead touching his forehead to yours.

"'Two souls with but a single thought,'"his honeyed voice recited, "'Two hearts that beat as one!'"

Then the world as you knew it ceased to be; _you_ ceased to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His hands were still dirtied with the earth that he buried her in as Nero braced his wasting shell of a body to where Urizen would be waiting. With the rapid decay that his body showed, he'd be lucky to last 10 more mintues. Maybe it would be for the best. He didn't believe in an afterlife or divine punishment but after the way _____ had given her life in the battle against Ratatoskr, after all the lives _that_ _man_ was responsible for taking, perhaps death was nothing short of what he deserved, scattered like dust on the wind.

"V! We made it— I see Dante up ahead! But that's strange... where's Urizen?"

V's heart raced, thumping wildly in his chest. Dante couldn't have, could he? The closer they got, however, the more likely it seemed. They were too late; _he_ was too late.

"Dante! What gives? Where's Urizen?" Nero gentley untangled himself from the ailing summoner in order to confront the red coated man.

"Dead. Sorry, but then fun's over; time to pack it in."

" _Fun_?" Nero's voice trembled in fury, "How can you say that? He was your _brother_ , dammit! It didn't have to be this way!"

"Only it did," Dante replied in his leisurely manner, "I guess this is a bad time to mention this but... he was your father as well."

"My father?" Nero sounded like he was in pure agony at the news. V himself was a bit dumbstruck but considering the circumstances he didn't have much energy to react.

"Yep. Trust me, I did the world a huge favor."

"That's not how family is supposed to be!" Tears flowed freely from the young hunter's eyes as he rushed his newly discovered uncle. In a dazzling array of light, Nero's lost arm regrew; but unlike before it looked perfectly human. His latent demonic power unleashed as he attacked Dante, appearing to V as nothing more than a blurr of blue. V was fading fast.

"Shakespeare, look alive!"

V barely had the reflexes to catch whatever his avian companion had dropped from above but he managed. Coursing with energy and constantly shifting in color, the item Griffon had bestowed upon him was none other than the Qliphoth fruit. How many had died to empower the vile thing? Just looking at it made V feel sick.

"What do you... _expect_ me to do with this?"

"You gotta eat it, kid— hear me out!" Griffon's voice was pleading, it was a tone V never heard leave the bird's beak in earnest before, "I know you're not feelin' too crazy about livin' right now but look at those two! The kid is in a blind fury and Dante is barely putting up a fight. The kid's gonna _kill_ him at this rate!"

Griffon appeared to be right. V had suspected that Dante had been purposefully goading the boy on. He wasn't sure if Dante wanted to die but he definitely wanted to be punished. Either way, if anything serious happened the boy would never forgive himself. Nero was Vergil's son, which made him V's son after a fashion— a relative if nothing else— but that alone wasn't what began to compell the poet into action. The truth was V had come to like Nero, respect him even. And Dante... _Dante_. V could say now that he didn't wish for him to die. Consuming the fruit could very well kill his fragile, mortal body but he was resolved to give it a shot. V took two large bites of the fruit and tried not to think about the flavor even as its brackish juices coated his chin. While he was still chewing, he tore the remaining fruit into 3 mostly even pieces before summoning both Shadow and Nightmare. 

"Woah, woah,woah! Whatcha doin', buddy?"

"The three of you need to consume a piece... quickly," V felt strange. He wasn't certain he was going to make it afterall; no reason he should take the three of them with him.

"Even Nightmare? You _sure_ about this, V?"

"We're partners... all four of us."

Griffon swallowed his piece practically whole as he tilted back his head and it slid effortlessly down his gullet. Shadow rubbed the length of its body against V's legs in appreciation before eating the fruit without a fuss. Nightmare simply absorbed its piece, the fruit disappearing into the shifting depths of the dark material that made up its body.

V gripped onto his cane for dear life as the power surged through him. His body was healing; he could feel his cracked and torn skin mending and knitting itself back together. Already he felt stronger, more vital than he had even on the first day since his creation. The familiars were going through a metamorphosis of their own; the change most visually obvious with Griffon, his dark plumage replaced with striking hues of red, gold and copper. Nightmare's body now looked more silver in tone and was covered in a pattern of strange symbols while whatever physical changes Shadow underwent were too subtle for V to pinpoint. 

Nightmare approached the summoner and stood before him for a moment. V looked on at the giant, wondering what its intentions were. Suddenly, Nightmare's body was surrounded by a warm, luminous aura and when it cleared, all that was left was a large and bizarre looking rifle that greatly resembled the cyclops itself. A Devil Arm? It was strange though, V could still feel the bond of the contract they shared. Curious, V recalled Nightmare and sure enough, the firearm disappeared, painting V's snowy locks as dark as the night sky. He had no time to ponder this most recent development. He needed to stop the potential avunculicide already in progress. He felt Shadow's head nudge at his hand and V smirked. Within the jaws of the big cat was Vergil's sword, the Yamato. The power that had transfigured the blade into the crystal that had dutifully guarded Urizen had faded away now that its master was no longer a part of this world. Well, he supposed the sword was _his_ now.

In a flash, V came in between the fighting men. Shadow and Griffon focused on subduing Dante while V lifted Yamato horizontally in a maneuver that blocked the razor sharp claws of Nero's phantasmal limbs.

"Nero, you must cease this at once!"

"V? But how—"

"— Looks like your father got the fruit afterall!" Dante cried. 

Nero's eyes narrowed.

"What? You sunnavabitch!"

"Nero, what's done is done but you must control yourself! Don't you see he wishes to die?"

V's words were the proverbial slap in the face that Nero needed. In that instant the demon was gone, leaving behind only the young man whose heart was worn boldy on his sleeve. Nero was confused and above all, hurt; the emotional wounds to his heart far more severe than any sustained to his body. 

"Forgive him, Nero. He was only doing what he felt was right, not for himself, but for the world."

"I... lost myself for a minute there. Sorry, V or... er... "

"V is fine. As for you," the summoner turned to his half-brother who was being held in place by Shadow's amorphous body, "If you feel you have damned yourself that is one thing... but do not drag Nero down to your level."

V had expected a sarcastic comment or rebuttal but instead a lone tear streaked the man's face and V felt that for the first time he was seeing Dante for who he really was: a man long broken. V called off his familiars feeling the threat of violence was no longer a worry. 

"There are still open portals in the demon world that need to be closed..." V began, "I shall deal with them."

"Alone?" Nero, despite everything, seemed concerned.

"Hardly." V gestured to Griffon and Shadow to drive home his point.

"Oh, right. Nice makeover by the way, chicken," Nero gave a weak, half-hearted grin. 

"I am choosing to ignore that," Griffon tossed back his head in a stuffy, superior sort of way.

Nero looked V right in the eye, his shoulders square.

"Can we trust you?"

V leaned on his cane merely out of habit as he considered the question. They rightfully had no reason to trust him, they would need more than his word alone.

"There's a library... a bit farther back in town," V's chest tighted as the words left his mouth but he continued on, "Near there is a grave, freshly dug and hard to miss... It's where I buried the one I love. Perhaps I could trust you to take this there, so a part of me may be with her forever..." 

V held out his cane but Nero just stood there dumbfounded. It was Dante who finally took the silvered staff.

"We'll do it," the lone twin pledged, "just keep your end of the bargain or you'll be needing this back." Dante gave the cane a little wave.

"Fair enough," V pulled out the tome that had been his steadfast companion since his unconventional birth, "I'm giving this to you, Nero. It was Vergil's favorite. It feels only right that it should belong to you now."

"Oh... thanks."

When Nero leaned forward to grab the book, V leaned closer to speak in his ear.

"He needs you. Please take care of him," the poet beseeched. 

"Of course."

The three men exchanged stiff farewells before V was off. It would be the last time he ever saw either of them.

***********

V's little troupe had no problems closing the the portals the Qliphoth tree had tore open within the underworld, cutting through horde after horde of demons as easily as a knife through butter. Any sort of celebration of their achievement was cut short when yet another portal appeared. V could sense right away that something was different. The mammoth rift was a violent storm of greens, pinks, and shades of blue that seemed to rend not only space but also time asunder. The pure power of it was oppressive and yet beguiling somehow. Shadow roared at the unnatural cosmic tear, its ears flattened and sharp teeth bared.

"You ain't kiddin'!" Griffon cawed, "That thing is bad news! Creepy as fuck!"

"And yet I cannot just leave it."

"So what's the plan?"

"In order to properly close it I need to pass through. It wasn't opened from this side." Everything V said was the truth but deep down he felt there was something grander at play here. The rift murmured with the whispers of destiny, V felt as if the very threads of fate were pulling him forward. He needed to go, his heart ached for it.

"What's all this 'I' talk?" Griffon ruffled his feathers as though he were affronted, "I think you mean 'we'— no way in Hell you're going through that thing alone... Ha! Literally!"

Shadow uttered a short growl as though in agreement with this feathered colleague. V nodded in acknowledgement before recalling his companions back into the safety of his markings; he didn't want to risk being separated from his familiars. He felt a sense of urgency and rushed through the portal, the warmth that enveloped him setting his skin atingle. 

Upon stepping through the portal, there was no indication that anything had changed. For all accounts, it appeared as though he only took several steps forward. V felt his heart drop. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but he was hoping there was something behind that beckoning call of fate he had felt. Perhaps he had only imagined it? He cursed himself inwardly for falling victim to such overly romantic notions like fate and destiny. V didn't even have time to even attempt to close the rift before it closed itself in an uneventful blip. The portal had been different; of that there was no mistake but it seemed the true opening to the portal had lain elsewhere while V and his familiars had suffered the misfortune of falling through one of the portal's exits. Imagine taking a stack of papers and punching a hole through them with a paper punch: any one of those holes could be an exit but there was only one way to make it _completely_ through to the other side. 

V felt hopeless and distraught. They were now not only stuck in the demon world, but at an indistinct time and perhaps even in a foreign dimension. V began thinking about the long term and what his future here would entail. The Underworld was not only a dangerous and inhospitable place for V who was, for the most part, a regular human but it would be for his companions as well. The original Griffon and Shadow weren't exactly low profile bit players; they had been right hand men to Mundus who reigned over the demon realm for quite some time before his defeat. Demons had a lengthy memory, they bore grudges that could span several human lifetimes, and didn't take kindly to those percieved to be losers. If this place had a similar history to his native dimension, his friends would live in a state of either constant battle or would be perpetually in hiding. V didn't wish that from them. He called them forth, steeling himself for what was assuredly going to be a difficult conversation.

"Huh? Did we go through the portal?"

"Indeed."

"Wow, uh, gotta say— pretty anticlimactic!"

"... Indeed." V took the next moment to voice his earlier thoughts to his friends.

"Well, V, buddy, you raise some fair points but I don't know what you're gettin' at? " Griffon stood on the ground beside the stalwart Shadow, both of them staring at V attentively. It was hard for the summoner to meet such intense gazes. 

"It's time to end our contract," V began, "It's time for you to have your freedom. You are no longer merely Vergil's nightmares, but your own fully fledged demons. I am eternally grateful for your service."

"What? Why are you making it sound like you're firing us, or-or forcing us into retirement or somethin'!" Griffon flapped his wings completely flabbergasted at his master's words, "Don't we get a say in this?" Shadow roared clearly feeling the same.

"I can open a portal to the human realm with Yamato," V continued, glossing over the pair's concerns casually, "you will find a much better life there."

"Just come with us then!"

"I need to stay to properly close the portal behind you."

"Oh, please!" the raptor scoffed, "what's one more scar on the veil if it means getting out of this dump! Sounds like bullshit to me, V!"

"There is no meaningful reason for me to go," V rationalized, "I _wish_ to stay. No matter your choice, our contract is ending. I won't stand by and watch anyone else suffer because of me."

As simply as that, the markings binding Shadow and Griffon vanished from his body. Griffon squawked in disbelief while Shadow simply faced away from V, feeling betrayed. V unsheathed Yamato and gave it two graceful swings, opening the gateway to the human world. Without a second thought or glance back, Shadow ran through. 

"Shit! There he goes!" Griffon honked, "V, I'm going after him but only because you have that big lug bound to you still! I know your hurtin' kid, so are we, but you're stronger than all this! If you ever make it topside, look for us! I don't know how, but we'll make it easy for you to find us! 'If there's a will, there's a way' right, Shakespeare?"

With that, Griffon swooped through the portal, likely fearful that if he took too long he would never be able to find his four-legged pal in the next world. V reshealthed Yamato as he released a shaking breath he didn't know he had been holding. They would be safe now and that was all that mattered. Now V was alone.

Alone.

***************

He wandered for a time, deeper and deeper into the unforgiving hellscape. He had no goal, completely aimless in his travels, only knowing that if he stopped he would likely lose the will to continue at all. He had kept his mind so blank that when he stumbled into a vast field of blood red poppies he scarcely noticed, that was until he nearly tripped over something hidden amongst the floral sea. Or rather _someone_. The resting figure sat up leisurely, yawning loudly as he did so. He was a humanoid demon, his skin a deep indigo color that was reminiscent of the night sky. He had two pairs of bat-like wings, the smaller of which were attached to either side of his head and wrapped around his face like a defacto sleep mask. The demon unfurled the wings away from his face and rubbed at his glowing silver eyes before yawning again, revealing a mouth full of pointed white teeth. 

"Pardon me, I didn't see you there," V apologized hoping to avoid confrontation.

"No... worries," the demon said between stretches, "happens more often than you might think. So, you headed to the cave then?"

"Cave?"

"Yeah, to see the Oracle Mnemosyne? Why else would you be here?"

"Again, a cave? Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm Somnus."

"Right."

V had no idea what cave he was talking about. He was about to inquire if the demon had suffered a concussion when he blinked and suddenly there stood a cave not too far off in the distance. Not the strangest thing to happen to him.

"An oracle you say?" V was only menially interested but he had nothing better to do.

"Yeah, Mnemosyne. She collects memories and knows practically everything."

A collector of memories? Perhaps she would be worth visiting afterall.

"Hey... are you a human?"

"Pretty much."

"Woah. I didn't think your kind existed anymore," Somnus zoned out a bit, apparently deep in thought. V waved a hand in front the demon's face and Somnus shook his head rapidly, "Oh, wow, I should go. I'm supposed to meet up with my brother and he'll kill me if I'm late!"

"Don't let me hold you up," V shrugged.

"Good luck, human!"

Somnus was off in a flurry of wings, the scentless red blossoms swaying from the force of his lift off. 

************

V's only company was the constant rustle of the poppies as he made his way through them. He felt his eyelids grow heavier as he stepped ever nearer to the cave's entrance. Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave at high tide but he fought through it. He thought he could hear humming, a wordless lullaby that made him feel at ease. Small beads of light floated dreamily in the air and into the mouth of the cave as though they were being breathed in. The cavern itself was breathtakingly gorgeous and had V been in better spirits its beauty would have struck a chord with him. V eventually found his way to an alter room and already awaiting him was a woman. From her hair to her smile and the dark webbing of tattoos that featured prominently on her body, the woman was a perfect copy of _____. His breath hitched painfully in his chest.

"You are a peculiar one, aren't you?" she spoke with his lost lover's voice, "Not from here, and in more ways than one! Tell me, Little Wanderer what is it you seek from me?"

"Nothing. It's more about what I can offer _you_."

"Oh! That's a first!" Mnemosyne blinked owlishly through ______'s eyes, "please do go on!"

"You know what I am... an _abomination_. I'm half a person with memories of a man I can never truly be. I need... to be my own or else I do not know how I can continue on," V clenched his fists, his body tembling, "So I offer you all of Vergil's memories and I ask for nothing in return."

A hungry and greedy look temporarily crossed over the Oracle's features, there and gone so quickly it might have been V's imagination.

"I cannot lie and say that is not an extremely tempting offer; it is not everyday—no, it's not every _century_ that a creature as interesting as you strolls into my domain. However, I cannot grant you your request. The damage that would cause to your psyche would be catastrophic."

"Then you damn me!" V clutched his face into his hands, the Oracle's words shattering something fragile within him. 

"Little Wanderer, I do no such thing."

The change in her voice made V look up. The Oracle now wore his mother's... Eva's face. She stroked his hair gently.

"Listen well: this thing that you so desperately seek? You shall earn it simply by living. Live. That's all you need do."

Live, huh? Sometimes that was the hardest thing _to_ do. The poet could barely keep his eyes open, his world quickly fading to black. As he drifted to sleep he thought of a particular children's tale and of the words spoken by a certain benevolent fairy:

'Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish and someday you will be a real boy! Awake Pinocchio. Awake.'

************

When he awoke from his slumber, V found himself back in that endless poppy field once again. The cave was nowhere to be seen, whatever forces at play hiding it from the summoner's eyes. He wished that he could say he felt even the slightest bit hopeful but the truth was he was still feeling defeated. Nothing else to be done, he continued to walk. 

He could not say how much time had passed— days, weeks perhaps? He passed over an impossibly long foot bridge and soon found himself in a macabre forest where all the trees seemed to have faces twisted in horrendous expressions; a collection of living wooden death masks. He didn't know how many times he must have walked in circles, but by the time he realized he was as hopelessly lost as he felt on the inside. Weak, emaciated, and more than a little dehydrated, finally he collapsed unable to withstand anymore. 

************

He was vaguely aware of the sensation of being carried but not much else. When V opened his eyes he found himself on a couch within a small, simple dwelling. Unconsciously he smacked his cracked dry lips, his tongue as gritty as sandpaper. The noise must have caught the attention of his savior. The face that greeted him was, naturally, demonic; chalky white with two pairs of curved horns that gave off a subtle mother of pearl gleam. Four eyes like shining black onyx looked on at him with cool intelligence. The demon was short, even by human standards, and doned scholary, slate colored robes that gave them a staid air. 

"Here, just _looking_ at you is making me thirsty..." Her voice was pleasant and matronly as she offered him a large waterskin. 

He gave a short, appreciative nod before taking the receptical. The skin was heavy, plumped to compacity and in his weakened state V struggled to even bring it to his lips. When he finally did manage he drank in one long, continuous gulp. The water was warm and tasted slightly of sulphur but in that moment it was the most delicious V had ever tasted and he drank it with such eagerness he found the water could scarcely flow fast enough for his liking. 

"Easy there,"the demon gently pulled the waterskin from the poet, "all that water will mean nothing if you throw it up."

"I— thank you," V managed to choke out. It had been quite a while since he'd last spoken. 

"I've got something cooking. I'm no expert in human physiology but it looks like you could use a bite to eat."

That was putting it delicately V was sure. Under regular conditions he already had a rather slim build and he didn't need a mirror to feel the tautness of the skin over his cheekbones. 

"By the by, my name's Pia,"she raised a clawed hand and pressed her palm to her chest, "And you?"

"V."

"Was that... sarcasm?" Pia narrowed her dark eyes. V stayed silent, content to let the demoness draw her own conclusions.

Not long after, the meal Pia was preparing was ready. It was some sort of stew and V supped on it slowly. Not only were his human taste buds not acclimated to the pungent flavors of underworldly foods, now that his life was no longer in any immediate peril his emotional numbness began to ebb, alloting all his negative thoughts to flow freely. He simply didn't _feel_ like eating. He pushed himself to eat a small portion, not wanting to offend his gracious host after all the trouble she had put herself through. 

V slept the hours away the next couple of days, waking only to pick at whatever food Pia gave him. While awake he was plagued by thoughts so dark the nightmares he endured while asleep seemed, by comparison, an escape. By the third day he was feeling physically well enough that he felt it would be rude to impose himself on the demoness any longer. Pia shut that thought down quick.

"Boy, don't be ridiculous. I don't know your story; clearly there is something _different_ about you, but you look human— hell!— you _smell_ human! That's enough for most demons to want you dead on sight," Pia gesticulated as she spoke in an animated fashion, "I'm old, too old to care about meaningless grudges from millennia ago. You're not putting me out any; I have enough to spare and won't shirk having company that can string together a coherent sentence."

"I have no way of repaying your kindness..."

"Weren't you listening? You don't need to," Pia sighed as she shook her head, her horns glinting in the overhead lights, "but I know that look; your pride dictates that you need to do something to earn your keep, am I correct?"

V looked away, sullen and embarrassed that he could be read by the relative stranger so easily. A self-satisfied smile crossed Pia's face.

"I thought as much. You can help me out with my work. It'll be good for you— keep you busy."

V simply nodded. He didn't need to ask the nature of her work for he already had a pretty solid guess; judging by the workbench and the sheer amount of firearms littering the place, he had figured her to be a gunsmith some kind. 

"So," she continued, "Is V truly your name?"

V thought about the question, the inquiry touching a nerve. Who _was_ he? Going by 'Vergil' would make him feel like a fraud, an imposter.

"It's the closest thing I have to a name," he answered truthfully.

"I see..." Pia's head bobbed in the tiniest of nods, "Don't worry. A name will come to us in time."

V scoffed, feeling more skeptical than cynical. What did it really matter if one such as him had a "proper" name or not? The more V reflected on Pia's words, however, the more they seemed to parallel Mnemosyne's parting phrase to him. For the first time since ______'s death he felt the smallest glimmer of hope.

***************

V's fingers worked deftly at dismantling the rifle in order to give the piece a proper, thorough cleaning. He sat crossed legged on the floor, the coffee table before him the perfect height to serve as his workspace. Pia had guided him through the process a couple of times and he was able to pick it up rather quickly; he always had been a fast learner. His work was made smoother still when he decided to tie his hair back with a makeshift elastic, it was much easier than repeatedly tucking his dark strands behind his ears. He was shocked at how much he enjoyed the work; Vergil, while no stranger to firearms, had always carried a certain distaste for them and never bothered providing any guns in his possession anything beyond the very basics of care. V was able to lose himself in the ritual field stripping afforded him, the repetition oddly comforting. Pia had been right, it made him feel much better to able to tune out of his own mind for a while. 

Engaged as he was in his work, he barely noticed when Pia returned from her trip. 

"I grabbed a few things for you," She handed him a bag full of what appeared to be several garments intended for the summoner. 

"Pia... you needn't have bothered with such things..."

Her black eyes blinked without expression.

"You must be joking; you are swimming in the clothes you're wearing!"

She wasn't wrong. Pia had lent him some clothes that had belonged to her son and they were ill-fitting to say the least, especially since he'd yet to gain back any noticable amount of weight. 

"Hmm... I can't argue there," he arched a brow, "but people are going to think you're keeping a lover at this rate; what a scandle..."

"Boy, you and that sass of yours!" Clawed hands graced her hips as she shot him a disapproving look, "I've been telling people I've hired on help, which isn't far from the truth now is it? Oh, and make sure you look at the bottom the bag." 

Curious, he did just so. He reached around in the bag until his fingers brushed something hard and mostly flat; it was a wooden mask elaborately carved with depictions of leaves and creeping vines painted in varied shades of soft, muted greens. It looked as though it would cover the majority of his face and the openings for the eyes were covered with black meshing that would obscure his features even further. He slipped it on, wanting to test it out. It felt pretty good, liberating even, and comfortable to the point that he couldn't complain. 

"What do you think?" He ventured with a slight tilt of his head, "Really brings out my eyes, doesn't it?"

Pia brought a hand to her mouth as she laughed. 

"It will help you blend in. You'll be able to do deliveries for me or leave the house as you please."

"I thought that I had a certain... _smell_ that gave me away?"

"Not so much anymore; the food helped see to that and your aura, while weak, is demonic. No one will pay you any mind."

He could hear the curiosity in Pia's voice as she spoke of his power. Absentmindedly, he touched a hand to Yamato thinking it was high time he share the true nature of his existence to Pia if he were going to continue living with her; to keep her in the dark any longer would be infringing upon her consent to let him stay. She deserved to know everything in order to make an informed choice; the blood of Sparda may no longer flow in his veins but if this dimension had a similar history to his own, his presence could still very well spell danger for the gunsmith. 

"Do you have some time," V removed the mask, his green eyes serious, "I need to tell you who, no... what I am."

Pia fetched herself a chair and sat, giving him a silent nod to urge him to speak. 

Speak he did. He told her _everything_ about Vergil, the split that led to his creation, and ultimately the perplexing portal that had led him to Pia and her dimension. She listened to him patiently and silently, never once interrupting or interjecting. When V finished his tale, Pia immediately stood from her seat and approached him. His jaw clenched, fully expecting some show of distaste or violence against him before she ordered him out of her home, but instead she wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a warm embrace. Pia barely needed to lean over to comfortly hold him, her short stature so pronounced that she stood only slightly taller than V even while he sat. He found himself frozen, such a display the last thing he expected.

"Poor dear... the amount of hardship you've had to endure— and yet, you are still here... Say, I think I've got it!" The demoness pulled back and smiled triumphantly, "Vigna! How do you like that?"

Vigna, if he wasn't mistaken, meant 'vine'. He tried the name out himself, testing how the syllables rolled off his own tongue. Vigna, Vee-nya. It wasn't a name _he_ would had chosen but that's the point, right? Most people didn't have a hand in choosing their own name. He found he liked it all the same; it was familiar yet distinct and he appreciated the favorable comparison to the resilient plant.

"I like it, but are you really... unbothered about what I am?" V's dark brows gathered together, genuinely perplexed at how the gunsmith would be able to overlook all he had told her so easily.

Pia tented her fingers and sighed in a good-natured manner.

"Boy, do you think you're the first to travel between dimensions? It's rare, sure, but not unheard of. Hell, from some of the things you've said, your dimension sounds not too different from this one! Secondly, I'm a demon, remember? Your unconventional "birth" is just another Tuesday night here. Demons reproduce all sorts of ways, many asexually. Some can lop off an arm and boom! Instant son. Fully grown demon sprouts out of some guy's forehead? Congratulations, it's a girl! My point it is, stranger things have happened," she smiled for a second before her face turned serious, "Sparda and Mundus, they existed here too and let me tell you... I _celebrated_ when I heard Mundus fell to Sparda's son. There was a legendary weaponsmith known as Machiavelli, ever hear of him?"

V nodded. Like she had said, he was legendary; that fact was no different in his world.

"Well," Pia continued, "Mundus enslaved Machiavelli and forced him to be the forge master for his army: armor, weapons, all of it. It ended up being the death of him. Machiavelli, well, he taught me everything I know."

"So you're Machiavelli's protégée?" V was sincerely in awe. There were whispers that Machiavelli had passed on the secrets of his trade before his passing but nobody could confirm it as a fact.

"I am. But more than that, Machiavelli was my mate," there was a sadness to the smile she gave then, one that V thought he could understand to a certain degree, "So, seeing Mundus brought to heel meant quite a bit to me. I have no reason to dislike you."

A ghost of a smile tugged at the man lips. So he was to be a delivery boy, eh? He found he didn't find the idea unfavorable. The only issue was the Yamato. Truth be told, V no longer felt comfortable with such a powerful piece in his possession. His strength even after consuming part of the Qliphoth fruit left much to be desired and he hated the idea of being overpowered and somebody stealing Yamato; it was a real danger. It wasn't a problem any of the three Sparda men would have had but V was no longer a member of the Sparda clan. It was a hard pill to swallow but that was nonetheless reality. 

"Pia... may I ask a favor of you?"

"If it's within my power, consider it done," Pia's glossy black eyes radiated kindess.

"Do you think that you could seal away... _this_?" V carefully unsheathed the Yamato and handed it to the small demoness, "I've realized there is every possibility that another one of these swords may exist in this universe and... one Yamato is enough."

"Such power..." Pia's eyes widened in sort of awe and reverie, "are you certain that's what you want?

"It is." 

Power. It had been one of the hardest things for him to let go, time and time again. But V knew now that it was a useless pursuit for him just as it had been when he was Vergil— even more so, really.

"It'll take some time but I can do it."

"Good." He meant it.

*************

When Pia was finished sealing away the Yamato, it was utterly unrecognizable. V marveled at the palm sized gem in his hand, the oval glittering in vibrant red and blue hues, hardly able to believe it had once been the formidable sword capable of untold destruction. Pia had done an excellent job of binding Yamato's power— barely any energy was detectable from the stone— yet still he knew that its power slept soundly within. Yamato was decidedly less dangerous but V knew too well that seals could be broken. Detrimined to keep it with him at all times, he fashioned it into a brooch. Perhaps wearing it so openly was brazen and foolhardy, but Vigna thought it was the better option: if he were to keep it hidden away on his person, somebody just might get the impression that it was something of significance— best that people think it's merely a glitzy piece of costume jewelry. Pia looked on at him with a mixture of horror and admiration when she heard his explanation.

"Quite the master of manipulation you are!"

V gave a short chuckle and shrugged.

"I find people see what they want to; just taking advantage of that fact. 

'This life's dim windows of the soul  
Distorts the heavens from pole to pole  
And leads you to believe a lie  
When you see with, not through, the eye.'"

Pia was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, as she smiled softly to herself. 

"That reminds me, I picked up something for you the other day— hold on."

She disappeared into her bedroom and returned with something wrapped loosely in cloth. She handed it to him and he took it, brow raised slightly in curiosity. 

"I'm not sure if you'll like it but such things are scarce around these parts," Pia spoke as V pulled back the cloth revealing her gift to be a book. 

Leatherbound and emblazoned with a large, golden "VI", just the sight of the eerily familiar tome made him smile. When he opened the cover to find the volume was dedicated to the works of John Keats, V broke into hearty laughter, tossing his head back as his body shook with mirth. What were the odds? He wasn't a betting man but it all felt so astronomically unlikely. 

"Is that a good reaction?" Pia laughed.

"Yes! This is such a perfect gift that it is mind-blowing. But... how did you know that I like poetry?"

"When I first brought you here, you were pretty delirious. You would cry out and more often than not speak in strange verse. Took me a while to realize it was human poetry."

His face warmed a bit, feeling slightly embarassed but too thankful to dwell on the feeling.

"Thank you, Pia."

She said nothing, choosing to simply reach out and ruffle that man's hair instead. V's green eyes seem to shine with joy, the elation he felt at owning a book of his very own nearly a perfect mirror of how the young Vergil felt when gifted his William Blake tome all those years ago. V turned to the first page and his heart was in rapture at the sight of the words printed there.

'Stop and consider! Life is but a day...'

______ had mistakenly quoted that poem to him in her attempt to comfort him. He heard her voice in his head as he read the short phrase and found it soothing. He smiled again; he couldn't help feeling like it was a sign. He turned back to the inner cover and grabbed a pen. In a looping and exquisite cursive he wrote a name, _his_ name.

Vigna.

***********

Vigna's spirits improved greatly over the course of the next few weeks. Finally, his appetite returned to him and he quickly gained back the mass he initially lost. His disguise afforded him the freedom to venture outdoors and as he assisted Pia with her deliveries, he started to become quite familiar with the demon world's geography. Once upon a lifetime ago he had been intimately acquainted with the Underworld but unfortunately, that knowledge either died with Urizen or remained with his former familiars. Well, now that he knew again he supposed he had come full circle. 

Pia had been right in her assurances that nobody would spare him a second thought. Vigna exchanged nary a word with her clients, with the exception of Somnus, the strange fellow he had encountered at the poppy field, and his twin brother, Mors. The twins made for entertaining conversationalists, the sharp-witted, level headed Mors acting as a perfect foil for his air-headed but kind brother. If Somnus recognized Vigna from that day in the field, he gave no indication. In the long run, it was for the better Vigna decided; the less people who knew about the truth of his human nature, the better.

In his spare time, when he wasn't savoring the works of John Keats, Vigna took to spending time in the strange woods nearby, determined to conquer the place that had nearly bested him. It was therapeutic; the more he came to know of the terrain the less he feared it and, thusly, the less power it held over him. Soon, he became so well versed with the forest he found he rather liked it. As haunting as the twisted human like faces of the trees were, Vigna eventually came to not mind them at all. In fact, the closer he looked the more the faces seemed forlorn and melancholy, and in that there was a type of tranquil beauty he could appreciate. Maybe he just felt he was in good company; a lost soul wandering amongst lost souls or perhaps it was just his eccentricity shining through. His fondness for the place made it all the more a bitter feeling when a band of demons began gathering there fairly regularly. He had no idea what they were up to or for what purposes they were meeting but Vigna had witnessed enough to determine that they were both an unfriendly and unintelligent lot which meant he should keep his distance. 

What started as merely cleaning the various firearms in Pia's possession soon turned into Vigna performing simple repairs. Eventually, Pia offered to relay to Vigna all she knew, to make him her legitimate protégé. She claimed to be impressed with the rapid progression of his skills but privately Vigna didn't think his prowess at weaponsmithing was actually anything to write home about; he lacked that certain je ne sais quoi required to be truly great. He said nothing of this to Pia, however, because he thought her decision was really about passing on Machiavelli's techniques and knowledge while she still had a chance; Vigna figured she wanted his work to live on in some way. He was deeply honored that he of all people was to be her pupil; it spoke volumes of not only the trust she had for him but the affection. He had to wonder though, why not her son? When he asked her this, she went still and silent for a long time, a series of emotions seeming to hit her in waves.

"Thiriel is...'misguided' is what I wish I could say, but that's just a mother's softness talking. Thiriel has a coldness to him— a darkness. He had to grow up under Mundus' rule which went on for far too long. There was nothing resembling peace during those times, only cruelty and hatred; most too blind to see it was Mundus that created such a hostile way of living, not the humans. I like to think I brought him up right but maybe I failed him in some way."

Vigna thought for the first time of how Eva would have felt if she could have seen the man Vergil had grown up to be and shivered. She would have been horrified. 

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault. I know firsthand that solid parenting doesn't always result in a stable adult." Eva's time mothering Vergil was cut tragically short and yet the lessons and morals she instilled in him should have lasted him a lifetime; the truth was when he denounced his humanity he rejected all that Eva had given him as well. Vigna wasn't certain he could ever forgive his alter ego for that. 

Their conversation was interrupted by at knock at the door. Vigna and Pia met each other's gaze, both equally surprised; whoever called upon them was totally unexpected. Vigna pulled on his mask— he always kept it handy for cases such as this. Pia went to the door, her stride light and alert. When she opened the door she gasped softly.

"Thiriel? To what do I owe such a surprise?"

The phrase 'speak of the devil' came to mind.

"Why, mother, do I need a reason to drop by?" Thiriel's voice was a high tenor and his tone, while friendly, had a ring of insincerity that Vigna couldn't stand.

"Well, no, but it's a bit unprecedented for you," Pia breathed a small sigh, "Well, come on in." She moved her small body to the side as she opened the door completely. 

"Oh, and who is this?" Thiriel spotted Vigna before he even crossed the threshold. The demon looked nothing like his mother, choosing to take on a more human looking guise. Thiriel had a flawless, dollike appearance with flowing blond hair and violet eyes that only exaggerated his preternatural perfection. 

"Oh, that's just Vigna. I hired on some help for some menial work. At my age, I think I've earned a bit of rest." She chuckled, smoothly selling the white lie.

"I see," those eyes of his zeroed in on Vigna, "I certainly hope it's worth the trouble."

Vigna tilted his head at the blond, cocking an unseen brow beneath his mask.

"Bit of an oxymoron, wouldn't you say?"

"Excuse me?" Thiriel smiled but it was thin.

"If your mother hired me to be of help to her but my presence here—as you suggest— is, in fact, a burden on her, that would be an oxymoron... "

Thiriel's smile grew wider, his lips twitching with the effort. He laughed a tinny and humorless laugh that sounded purely imitative.

"Quite the wit you have," he turned then to his mother and gave her a soft touch on the shoulder, "I just remembered there is something I need to take care of so I'll be heading off."

"Why, already?" Pia looked convincingly displeased, "you only just got here!"

Thiriel continued smiling his faker's smile as he shook his head.

"Fear not, Mother we shall see each other soon." That was the only sort of goodbye he offered before heading back out the door. Pia closed and locked the door behind him and when she was certain he was truly gone, she slumped into a chair and sighed in relief. That whole exchange had been odd to say the least.

"I don't know what you were talking about earlier," Vigna shrugged, "I think he really livens up a room."

"You and that sass-mouth of yours!" Pia's tone was reproachful but she smiled none the less; it was the reaction he had hoped for, Vigna hated seeing her so stressed. 

***********

Nearly two weeks passed with Vigna under Pia's tutelage. As he suspected, he had no particular talent for weaponsmithing but still he soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. Vigna took comfort that at least in that way Machiavelli's legacy would carry on and hoped his master felt the same way. Vigna truly believed he could continue the rest of his life in this fashion and die a contented man but life always has a way of dashing one's hopes.

"Vigna, I need to leave for a while."

His master's words didn't come off as a shock, she had left on business before afterall.

"Oh? For how long?" He didn't bother looking up from his work.

"I'm not sure. If I don't come back, just consider it my retirement."

That made Vigna take notice. He let his tools clatter on the table as he looked at her in alarm.

"What do you mean? What's going on?"

"I've taught you all I have to teach, Vigna. You are more than capable of continuing on my work," pride seemed to shine within those four dark orbs of hers, "I need to go to my son. I've heard some rather troubling things about him as of late. He may be grown but I'm still his mother."

"I can go with you," Vigna insisted, "I can keep you safe." He hated the idea her going alone, especially after meeting the man in question.

"There is no doubt in my mind that you are a capable warrior but my Thiriel is the jealous sort and besides that... I feel this is something I need to do on my own."

Vigna sank in his chair feeling helpless.

"Your mind is made up, isn't it?"

"Afraid so," Pia smiled at the man and ruffled his dark hair in her usual fashion, "Chin up, Vigna. Do not let yourself fall into despair. I am _not_ abandoning you. I have come to care for you as if your were my own son. Connecting with you and watching you thrive has been the greatest joy I have had in far too long."

"I... owe you everything, Pia. In this world, I have no truer mother," He took a deep breath in resignation, " If this is your decision, I shall accept it."

"Thank you, Vigna."

He suspected she wished to keep him out of harm's way. Still, he vowed, if she were gone for too long with no word he would go after her no matter what dangers lie in store for him.

********

Pia left the next morning. One day turned into two; two into three until an entire week had passed without even the tiniest whisper regarding his master. Vigna tried not to panic, tried not to assume the worst. He found himself wandering the forest that he had come to adore, the open air clearing his head. He had just made the decision that he would go and see Mors and Somnus to see what they might know when he heard voices in the distance. He recognized them right away but moved in closer just to make sure.

"I think we're lost."

"I heard you the first three times."

The squabbling red and blue clad men with their silver locks couldn't be more recognizable if they were wearing name tags. He thought seeing them would make him feel less than but standing there he felt quite the opposite; he felt free. In this world, the role of Vergil was already filled, leaving him to be... just himself. He smirked as he watched the Sparda twins continue to bicker. He would keep watch for a little longer and help them if need be; it would be easy to do without forgoing his own agenda afterall. He realized by making contact with them he would be playing a dangerous game but... 

Life is but a day.


	3. Chapter 12

You gasped for air like a swimmer emerging from watery depths as you resurfaced from the vision you were shown. If you hadn't been sitting down already you would have definitely needed to after all of that; it was a lot of information that just fell into your lap. Your forehead was still pressed to Vigna's, your hands still clasped. Shyly, you pulled away and let out a long exhale.

"That was... illuminating," you found yourself quite speechless, "Very... um... efficient method." 

Vigna looked at you with doe-eyed worry, visibly swallowing as if trying to muster up the courage to speak.

"Do you... _regret_ learning what you now know?"

You honestly weren't sure how you felt. Did anything you just learned actually change anything? It was like Vigna said beforehand, he wasn't actually _your_ V. He looked the same, sounded the same, and possibly shared most of the same memories but physically he was not the same man you had loved nor were _you_ the same woman _he_ had loved; that woman had died and laid rotting in Redgrave in some parallel dimension. It was all enough to give you an existential crisis. 

"It's... a lot but I'm glad I know. I think," you gave a wry grin.

"I see..." Vigna absentmindedly touched the loose, black strands that framed his face, "Do you want to go back? To Aporia?"

You screwed up your face, not liking the idea one bit. How were you supposed to just go back after a bombshell like that was dropped on you? You wanted to stay, for a time at least; you were too curious to bug out now.

"I'll take my chances here with you, thanks. So, anyway, what's next on the agenda? Have any leads?" You were eager to get back to tracking the Sons, not only because it was the right thing to do but because you wanted to focus on something you understood. Taking down the bad guy? That was a simple. Well, conceptionally speaking anyways.

"I think I may have found something but I'm not... entirely certain. When I left that morning after we met, I eventually came across a lodge in the woods later that day. I spotted some demons not too far off from there and dispatched them but by then it was late and I needed to set up camp. I was going to check it out on my own the next morning but thought the better of it. Figured I would touch base with you all first."

Knowing all you knew now you supposed you didn't need to ask why he didn't just stick around and head back to Aporia with you and the Sparda twins in the first place. 

"So, is this camp in the same woods all of us camped near the other night? Close to the abandoned house?"

"Indeed."

Your face warmed at the memory, feeling a mixture of both sadness and mild embarrassment but you didn't want to dwell on the past. You cleared your throat as though it would help clear your mind.

"Hey, well, at least now you don't need to wear that mask all the time," you smiled at the man, hoping to change the subject.

Vigna fiddled with the fabric of his cowl that gathered loosely at his neck as though deep in thought.

"Hmm... well, you may be right about that. I suppose now that the cat's out of the bag, Thiriel won't be able to use that knowledge to hurt you so..." he shrugged.

Aha! You had figured yourself to be the person he didn't wish to "suffer" because of his identity. Despite yourself you felt a bit pleased that he had taken your feelings into account for so long and for literally no personal gain; such a quiet act of kindness.

"I think I should keep my face concealed around the others though," he continued, "Vergil has been... itching for a reason to fight me and this would be the perfect excuse." He gestured to his face with a smirk.

You nodded at his answer; it probably wasn't the wrong call. You knew firsthand that Vergil disliked Vigna. It was kind of sad when you thought about it. 

"Well, lead the way to this lodge, 'Oh, Captain! My Captain!'" 

He raised a brow at you.

"Only if you know who you're quoting," he challenged. 

"Are you _gatekeeping_ right now?" you challenged back with a grin.

"Perhaps a little..." His green eyes darkened under his heavy lidded expression, "Why, are you... _uncertain_?" 

"Not even a little," you narrowed your eyes in smug satisfaction, "Walt. Whitman." You fanned out your fingers and mouthed the word "boom," gloating in your victory.

"Hmm," he held back the heavy flap of the tent and looked back at you before exiting, "lucky guess." 

Your jaw dropped as you gave him a stony glare.

"Rude."

***********

Phantom had been giving you an earful for at least twenty minutes as the three of you trudged through the forest. Vigna took it all in stride, his apparent amusement only serving to further agitate the spider's fiery temper.

"Bah! I cannot believe you are trusting this clown even after seeing his face! How do you know that he didn't implant false memories into you?"

This was only the _third_ time he had mentioned this and you had no better answer than what you had said the first two times: you couldn't see what benefit going through all of that effort would bring to Thiriel and the Sons. You supposed you could be used against Vergil somehow but you doubted it. Not to mention, there were details in that vision that rang true to you that Thiriel would have no way of knowing. You just _felt_ the vision you were shown was real... or maybe a part of you hoped that it was. 

"I... admire your healthy skepticism, Phantom," Vigna glanced over his shoulder at the arachnid, "it's smart, please keep at it."

"You mock me!" Phantom thundered accusingly, his entire body seeming to ripple with rage.

"I don't!" Vigna insisted, "I meant every word I said. I encourage you to keep an eye on me— all eight of them in fact."

"You can count on that!" Phantom huffed, "Your reverse psychology won't work on me!"

Vigna simply chuckled.

"So your gun, it's Nightmare then?" You cut into the conversation before Phantom had a chance to drag it back again. 

"It is— a nightmare to handle too." 

"So does that mean that... Griffon and Shadow are with you too?" You hadn't seen any sort of resolution in the vision regarding the pair but you had hoped maybe Vigna had reunited with them since coming to the human realm. He was quiet for a time and for a minute you didn't think he planned on answering. When he did it was simply, 

"No."

************

The lodge was a large, elevated cabin with a long staircase that zig-zagged stylishly up to the cabin's wrap-around porch. No roads led up to the place, only a series of narrow foot trails. Tattered decorations adorned the outside looking like they'd been at the mercy of the elements for more than a couple of days. A feeling of dread bloomed in the pit of your stomach, it seemed unlikely that the cabin's apparent neglect was a harbinger for anything pleasant. You and Vigna took point as you scaled the stairs with Phantom trailing close behind you. Not a word was spoken between the three of you, too focused and on guard about whatever was in store for your trio.

The smell was evident even before opening the door; the unmistakable tang of death already burning in your nostrils. Vigna turned to you then, clearly distressed although desperately trying to hide it.

"You could go check out the back if you'd like," his normally smooth tone faltered just a little. He was clearly giving your an out so you wouldn't need to witness whatever horror awaited beyond the door. You won't lie, a part you strongly considered it but ultimately you didn't want to leave the apprentice's side; if danger lurked within those walls you wanted to be there to back him up.

"We're stronger together," came your refusal, the smile you offered him weak but nonetheless genuine. Phantom simply scoffed at the notion— it wasn't difficult to tell he wasn't exactly thrilled with your decision. 

Vigna nodded, not objecting to your choice. 

"If anything in there is too much for you, do not be afraid to retreat. You'll hear no judgement from me."

You gave a curt nod of your own as you steeled yourself. You wanted to do this before you lost your nerve.

The smell intensified when Vigna opened the door, the stench seeming to roll over you like heavy morning fog. Vigna summoned Nightmare and cradled the rifle with the muzzle facing downwards, the dark lengths of his hair left a pallid alabaster. The inside of of the building was pitch black, the only source of light the swirling orange glow of Phantom's body faintly illuminating the space immediately around him. The pungent scent of rot permeated the air, with every breath you swore you could taste it and tried not to gag. You fumbled your hands around on the wall as you searched for a light switch. You were nearly ready to give up when your pinky finger brushed against it. When you flipped it on, however, you almost immediately wished you hadn't.

There were about 20 bodies in all, and much like the decorations outside, they had likely been there for at least a couple of days but given how dry and cold the weather had been it was honestly hard to tell. You didn't want to look so you focused instead on the rest of the cabin. The deceased people had definitely been attending a celebration of some kind; more decorations festooned the large open-floor space and an assortment of food lay rotting on the table and countertops, including an extremely moldy cake. On the wall was a eerie sigil scrawled with a tarry substance. 

"These people... have been drained of blood."

You looked over to see Vigna in a crouched position as he examined one of the corpses. 

"I'll... uh... take your word for it."

Vigna stood and pulled out a pen and notebook from one of his pockets and began to copy down the symbol. 

"Say, Phantom," you spoke to your familiar, "do you recognize that symbol from anywhere?" Vigna may no longer be savvy to some of Vergil's underworldly knowledge but there was a chance the demon may know a thing or two. 

Phantom's glowing purple eyes bore into the the sigil, examining the symbols closely.

"This sort of drivel was never my strong suit," the spider confessed, "only pansies need such things to gain power! But from what I can tell, it is some type of enchantment."

"I see..."Vigna responded as he tucked his notebook away, "perhaps the responsible party enchanted the blood after the fact. I think we now know how Thiriel was able to get the other Sons into the human world. Only..." He trailed off, his brow creasing with worry, "this seems too messy for Thiriel— too... beneath him." He shook his head and sighed, "Perhaps I am overthinking it. In any case, I don't think there's anything left to see here, we should go."

You nodded enthusiastically but hesitated at the door; you knew there was nothing the human authorities could do about this case but it felt horrible to just leave these people like this nevertheless. Vigna clasped your shoulder and looked at you with soft expression as though he understood exactly what you were feeling. He gave you a gentle nudge forward and once the three of you were outside and back on the ground, he held Nightmare towards the sky. You watched as the rifle transformed and crept up the length of his arm. He bent his legs, bracing himself as he fired a wide, lasered blast upwards.

"That should get _someone's_ attention," the firearm retracted as he spoke and it eventually dematerialized, returning Vigna's hair to its blackened state.

You smiled at the man, feeling grateful, when you noticed him wince ever so slightly. Your eyes swept over him, searching for the source of his discomfort: he seemed to be favoring his left leg. 

"Hey, V, are you okay?" your minor slip of the tongue made you blush the slightest bit; it seemed too familiar somehow. 

His brows upturned as he smiled wearily.

"I had rather hoped you wouldn't notice."

You looked sheepishly at Phantom, biting your lip in a vain attempt to suppress the nervous smile that threatened to spill across your face. Phantom's mighty body tensed, the bristled hairs on his body standing on end.

"Do not even ask me, Girl! I refuse to belittle myself in such a manner! There is no way! No way, I say! No—"

Suffice to say, after a good deal of bitching and complaining, Phantom carried both you and Vigna back to your camp. You knew how to butter him up for the job, stating that he was much stronger and faster than either you or Vigna so why waste his prowess? Even though you were schmoozing, all of what you said was the honest truth and that recognition was enough to placate the demon. Besides, it meant Phantom would get to be in his larger form and he was never able to resist those opportunities.

Phantom stood guard outside as you helped Vigna into the tent. You dug through your bag, rightly assuming you had something that could alleviate the poet's pain. You fished out an elastic bandage and some over-the-counter painkillers— you almost always had some of those on hand thanks to the awful headaches your nightmares produced. 

"All right then, drop your pants," you smiled, not really meaning what you said. 

"If you insist."

His pants dropped and your heart leapt into your throat. Luckily, he was wearing an extremely modest pair of white linen drawers that cut off right above the knee, clearly showing how bruised and battered his left one was. 

"You're more like Dante than you think," you muttered, as you helped him onto the bed roll. 

He let out a throaty chuckle.

"Somewhere out there, a cold chill just went up Vergil's spine."

You rolled your eyes a bit as you helped him take off his boots so he could fully remove his pants. Gingerly, you touched and examined his injury. In your line of business, especially being a plain ol' mortal, you've learned a thing or two about such things out of necessity. By your estimation, it didn't seem broken but it was a pretty gnarly contusion with a fair amount of swelling. 

"When did this happen?" you questioned.

"Back at the bunker. I had pretty bad landing when I first got there."

Your eyes widened.

"It happened _that_ long ago?" you chastised, "you should have said something! Do you want to wind up using a cane again?"

He looked away, his expression one that you couldn't quite read.

"Sorry," he said softly.

You wound the bandage around his knee and clipped it in place before handing him a couple of pills. 

"Well, that should help with the swelling and the pain a little bit," you dusted your hands together as you sat back on your haunches, "but what you really need is to stay off of it for a while."

Vigna quirked a brow.

"I'm afraid... that's just not possible," he was already in the process of fastening his pants as he spoke, "police are likely going to be combing through these woods after those bodies are discovered. I'd rather avoid any confrontation if possible."

Shit, he had a point. You felt a little guilty knowing Vigna did what he did to satisfy you. 

"All right. Then we'll pack up camp and have Phantom carry us for as long as it's conspicuous then we'll find somewhere to stay, any complaints?"

"Oh, there'll be complaints... only not from me."

You shook your head with a laugh knowing too well how right he was. 

"So what's the plan aside from getting away from this place anyways?"

"'Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget...'" he recited, as though it were a perfectly reasonable response.

You shot him a disgruntled look.

Fucking Chesire Cat.


	4. Chapter 13

There was plenty of daylight left to burn by the time your campsite was neatly packed away and you were to set off. Not knowing exactly how far the two of you were to travel atop the arachnid, you and Vigna spread out one of the sleeping bags to sit upon, hoping to mitigate the irritating properties of Phantom's wiry hairs.

"Have a picnic while you're up there! Bah!" Getting Phantom to agree to carry the pair of you yet again surprisingly took less coaxing than the last time so you felt you could handle his grumblings with more grace than usual. You knew the spider's pride was hurting and, honestly, you couldn't fault him if he felt that way. 

"Thanks again, Phantom, I mean it. We'd be screwed if you weren't here," you reached out and lightly stroked the top of his massive head, hoping to convey he wasn't merely a utility to you.

"Y-yeah? I mean, you sure would be! Now knock it off with the sappy crap and hop on before I change my mind!" The spider turned away from you and lowered his body to the ground as though to spur you on. You shook your head, grinning broadly. If spiders could blush...

***********

Traveling through a wooded area atop a giant tarantula wasn't exactly a recipe for speed. By the time the trees began to thin into a thicket that merely lined the adjacent street the sun was already setting. Unfortunately, the lack of trees meant lack of cover for Phantom; you and Vigna had ridden as far as he cold take you. Nonetheless, you were incredibly grateful to the tireless work of your familiar and called him back into your markings for a well-earned rest. Although you had cleared the forest, you still needed to distance yourselves from it which meant Vigna would have no choice but to walk with his wounded knee and with a sizable rucksack on his back to boot. Scanning the ground you found a large, sturdy stick and handed it to the man, figuring it was better than nothing. 

"It's a bit of a downgrade compared to what you used to use but maybe it will help." 

Vigna examined it for a bit before snapping some of the length off to adjust its height.

"This will actually make a rather serviceable walking stick," he declared as he prodded it against the ground a few times experimentally, "if my situation were more dire it could even be fashioned into a decent cane," he gave the extra bit of wood in his hand a whiff, " Black Walnut— a fine wood; hard but just soft enough to be easily workable. You have a pretty good eye."

You had to chuckle a bit; all you did was pick up a stick and he made it sound as though you did something wonderous.

"I just got lucky," you shrugged, "You taught me most of what I know about wood to be honest. I can't really tell just by looking if it's hard or soft— it just felt firm enough to work."

Vigna was silent, looking every bit the cat who swallowed the canary. Your cheeks warmed in realization and you frowned, shaking your head in mock-disaproval at your companion. 

"In any case," Vigna's voice was the slightest bit unsteady as he spoke, " we should leave; it _would_ not be wise to s _tick_ around here."

You pressed a hand to your face as you both laughed and inwardly cringed. Well, at least he didn't suggest that you 'make like a tree and leaf.' 

Yet.

*************

The road you traveled along was a lonely one, seeing only two or three cars careening along it at break neck speeds in the entire time you had been walking; you probably could've continued riding on Phantom and outsiders would have remained none the wiser. You worried about Vigna and his knee especially with the bag he was carrying. You knew that he would likely keep his pain even more guarded considering he meant to hide it from you in the first place. 

The sun was beginning to set, turning the already cold day that much colder. It was then you realized there was a very real possibility the two of you would have to walk through the night; setting up camp in the dark would be nigh impossible and sleeping unshielded from the various elements and without a fire would leave you susceptible to hypothermia. Suddenly, you wished you had gotten more sleep.

An approaching vehicle caught your attention, mostly due in part to the fact it was being operated at a reasonable speed. The powder blue truck began to slow and crawled to a stop and the driver pulled over and displayed their hazard lights. You and Vigna shared a look of silent agreement before making your way over to the truck. The window rolled down and a kindly looking older lady stuck her head out.

"Do you kids need a lift? There's still quite a ways to the next town. You'll have to ride in the back though on account of ol' Danny here."

As if on cue, the aforementioned Danny stretched his neck out over his owner in order to scope you out. He was a Great Dane with a shiny blue merle coat and upon seeing you, you could hear the steady _thump_ , _thump_ , _thump_ of his wagging tail hitting the passenger side window. You cracked a grin, both charmed by the massive pup and relieved you wouldn't have to spend the night walking to town.

"That sounds amazing! Thank you so much!"

You climbed in first and helped Vigna in afterwards, the two of you settling down with your backs to the cab. When you were ready, the woman drove onwards. 

The cold wind whipped all about you and despite being generously bundled up you were freezing. Vigna scooched closer to you and leaned over to speak directly in your ear. 

"We could share." 

His lips brushed against your ear and you suppressed an involuntary shiver that crept up your spine. He pulled back and gestured to the drab olive fabric that made up his cowl. You nodded, not wishing to yell over the whooshing air and too shy to speak your answer into his ear. At your reply, he tugged at the material gathered at his neck, loosening it and widening the loop. He slid the cloth over your head and let his arm drape around your shoulders— more for comfort's sake you assumed than him trying to put the moves on you. In the end, the fabric didn't cover much but it did help trap your and Vigna's body heat, which made quite the difference. 

Night soon fell, draining away the day's color. The abundance of clouds may have stolen the glory from the stars but they did little to block out the pale radiance of the full moon; so bright its glow could be witnessed even through the drifting vaporous clumps. Your breath came out in silvery puffs and your nose was quite numb but otherwise you felt sufficiently comfortable. 

"How are you feeling?" You were already so close to Vigna that you no longer felt too embarrassed about talking in his ear.

"I'm doing well,"he responded, "how about you?"

"Better now. Tired though," you admitted.

"Feel free to doze off. I can't help feeling a little... _responsible_. Although I doubt you'll find my shoulder very comfortable, you are welcome to it."

Your heart raced the slightest bit at the prospect. You should refuse, _right_? You should _want_ to refuse... shouldn't you? 

"I'll consider it," It was neither an outright refusal or an acceptance and this seemed to satisfy that inane inner voice of yours, rendering it silent.

It wasn't long before you found yourself nodding off, your head dipping forwards only to snap back into place as you feebly attempted to ward off sleep. Despite yourself you found your head upon Vigna's shoulder. You made to move it but Vigna pressed your head back in place, so gently it was more of a suggestion— one that you decided to take as you let your head settle back on his shoulder. He was warm, his scent was comforting and you were just too damn tired. Vigna stroked your hair briefly as he assured you he would wake you when the time came. You nodded, the fabric of his tunic rubbing against your cheek as you did. You let your eyes close and then slept, blissfully dreaming of nothing in particular.

*********

As it turned out Vigna didn't need to wake you after all, the small thump as the truck went over a speed bump was enough to jostle you awake. You looked up through bleary eyes to see a motel sign, the word 'vacancy' lit up in bold, hot pink letters. The woman stopped the truck and you took that as a sign to get out. After awkwardly extricating yourselves from the tangle of cloth, you both did just so. As you approached the driver side the woman rolled down her window once again. 

"It this motel an okay place to drop you off?" She inquired sweetly.

"Yes, this is totally fine," you assured her, "is there anything we can do to repay you? You saved us tons of trouble."

"Oh, no! It's quite all right, I was headed to town anyway."

"Are you sure?"

The woman chuckled.

"Yes, dear, I am. You kids be safe, okay?"

You nodded.

"You too! Thanks again!"

"Yes, thank you," Vigna chimed in at long last. 

"No problem! Have a good night!"

With that, the woman rolled up her window and waved before driving away and you truly wished her well; kind people sometimes felt so few and far between. 

After an uneventful check-in you arrived at your room. It was slightly chilly and a thermostat that couldn't be adjusted hung uselessly on one of the sickly yellow walls. There was a singular full sized bed dressed in striped bedding that just barely managed to match the decor, but besides that not much else. The room was pretty bare bones to say the least, but it was a place to lay your head and then shower in the morning so you weren't going to complain— at least it had been cheap.

You stripped yourself of your coat and boots and then practically dove into bed; the blanket was slightly stratchy from being laundered a few too many times and the sheets were an odd crinkly texture but it mattered very little, you were more than ready for bed. Vigna stood apart from the bed seemingly hesitant to make a move without your approval. 

"Well, come on!" you patted the space beside you, "you have my blessing. Or I can sleep on the floor or something."

He raised a brow at you.

"No, that won't be necessary."

Vigna proceced to strip down to a comfortable level, callously throwing his garments on the floor just as you had done. He removed the elastic from his hair, letting his tousled, raven locks fall freely around his face. If it weren't for his obvious lack of tattoos, you could almost fool yourself into thinking you had been transported back to Redgrave two years ago; but it wasn't and, well, _he_ wasn't. The mattress creaking under Vigna's weight as he got into bed snapped you back to reality; you had been so lost in thought you didn't even notice him shut off the light.

"Night, Vigna!" You practically yawned.

"Good night... ______."

***********

A familiar pain shot through your head as you woke up trembling and gasping. The room was shrouded in darkness signaling it was likely still the dead of night. 

"_____? What's wrong?" Your stirrings had awoken Vigna. You had every intention of answering him but when you opened your mouth only a dry sob came out. Your chest felt so tight, like all the air had been drawn from the room. You wished the sun would rise just so you knew it was still there.

He pulled you to his chest then, his slender fingers stroking your hair and back soothingly.

"A nightmare..." his voice was soft and just as soothing as his touch, " _his_ nightmare?"

You nodded.

"I see..." he was quiet for a moment, "how long has this been going on?"

"Since the library," you croaked, hoping that it would make sense to him. Afterall, you weren't sure exactly how similar your timelines were. He held you tighter then, and somehow that told you everything.

"I should've said something sooner. I thought it was for the best... but I was wrong to keep something so major from the one I love... loved," you sighed, "a pain shared is a pain halved so they say."

"I thought something must have been wrong that morning. You... _she_ had been awake before the library was attacked... and then..."

You didn't need to hear the rest of his thought to know that must have been when your counterpart died. You wrapped your free arm around him and nuzzled your face into his chest hoping you could bring the him even an iota of comfort. 

"'Touch has a memory...'"

His voice was as measured as always but his heart was pulsing so heavily within his chest it was hard to tell its beatings from your own. That was how you fell asleep; lulled by that steady life giving percussion.

***********

You awoke, embarrassingly enough, in a pool of your own drool. Sheepishly, you wiped an arm over your mouth and looked around. Vigna was leisurely sitting in a chair, his hair damp and feet bare. He was writing in his notebook humming softly to himself. He halted his work and tucked his pen behind his ear, green eyes seeming to blaze as he looked upon the page. He fingered the ends of his hair with his free hand, seemingly lost in his own world. 

"I see you're awake." His eyes never left his journal. Even without his demonic half, it seemed his senses were still just as sharp as Vergil's.

You stretched a bit, working out a kink in your neck. You felt reasonably well rested despite last night's hiccup.

"How's your leg?" 

"It's still a bit tender, but much better actually."

"Really?" It was good to hear but you hoped he was being honest, " _Really?_ "

His lips twitched the slightest bit.

"Really. Perks of being not-quite human."

You nodded, satisfied that he was telling the truth. What else were you going to do, ask him to drop his pants again? You felt yourself begin to blush at just the thought. As innocuous as last night had been, it was intimate all the same. You needed a little time to, for lack of a better word, recover. 

"So, what time is it?" You felt the need to change the subject. 

"Nearly eleven."

"Crap! I need to shower!" You leapt out of bed and slung your bag over your shoulder as you made your way to the bathroom. Your check-out time was eleven-thirty so you would need to be quick. 

Well, that was one way to get your mind off of things.

**********

You were able to finish your shower with extra time to spare; time that would luckily allow your hair to dry some before you would need to venture outside in the cold. When you finally did check out, the first thing on your agenda was to get something to eat. In your haste, neither of you had spared any thought towards food yesterday meaning today you were both voracious. 

You ended up choosing to eat at a gas station of all places. It had a sit down café inside that reeked of fried food and stale coffee but it was the first place you had come across— between your hunger and the cold you weren't about to be picky. You sat across Vigna at a booth as you ate, simultaneously horrified and amused as you watched the lithe man devour an entire pizza and wash it down with an energy drink. As uncouth as it was, there was something so down to earth in seeing Vigna eat that; as fantastical he and his origins were, right now he appeared like any other twentysomething. Not to mention, that was probably the heartiest meal he had had since coming to the human realm. You felt a little bad; maybe you should have held out and treated him to something nicer.

"If we get the chance, I'm going to take you out somewhere nice to eat— nicer than here at least," you smiled at the man as you fiddled with a napkin, "What do you think?"

"It's a date." His eyes glinted mischievously. 

"A date on the calendar, maybe," you volleyed back, earning you one of his patented smirks. On that note, you excused yourself to the restroom, not wishing to reveal how flustered the exchange left you— not to Vigna or yourself.

***********

The handle faucet squeaked noisily as you turned it on, the resulting stream of water gurgling as it ran down the drain. You cupped your hands and splashed the collected pool of water over your face, willing yourself to get a grip. Sufficiently satisfied that your grip had indeed been gotten, you pat your face dry with a paper towel and then crumpled it before tossing it into the waste basket. 

The restrooms were tucked away within a small corridor, and when you exited you noticed a payphone mounted to the wall inside a small alcove. You thought of your phone, still dead as a doornail tucked safely away in your bag and you thought of your friends; how were they doing? Did they hate your stupid guts? You fished out some coins and fed them through the slot and dialed the only number you could remember without fail: 6-MY-GOD-099, Nico's carphone. You half expected it not to work and when it actually started ringing out you figured nobody would answer. 

"Devil May Cry," the owner of the casual and boyish voice on the other line could only be Nero. 

"Wrong number!" you stammered before slamming the receiver back in place. The sound of your former mentor's voice was just too much, making you completely chicken out for the second time. You knew on some level you were being ridiculous; what were you running from? You sighed and then made your way back to Vigna. He was scribbling away in his book again tucking it away once you sat back down.

"So, what next?" You kept your inquiry simple, still feeling a bit down on yourself over hanging up on Nero.

"Have you ever been to Dante's office?"

"No... I never had the chance to. Why, are we... are we going there?"

"We're certainly in the right place if we wanted to and I suppose we will if the situation calls for it but there are... _other_ places to get information. The place we're going, Dante would never set foot in and I believe no stone should be left unturned."

A place even _Dante_ wouldn't go? That seemed ominous. Although, if you had learned anything about the half-devil it was that potential danger was an unlikely deterrent for him; there was probably a deeply personal reason if Dante decided to keep away from a particular place. Your felt a dull ache just imagining the pain he must keep concealed. There was still so much you didn't know about the demon hunter and you highly doubted you would ever be privy to the half of it. 

"'Thou art a dreaming thing, a fever of thyself,'" Vigna's voice was positively euphonious, immediately grabbing your attention, "You are quite the worrier, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am..." you smiled weakly, "Sorry."

Vigna's hand found the top of your head and rested there, his splayed fingers latticing your hair. 

"Don't be." The smile he flashed before slipping on his mask was sincere and when he pulled his hand away to put on his gloves you found yourself already missing his visage. 

*********

"A bit early for alcohol, don't you think?" You mused to your partner. 

You found yourself standing in front of what appeared to be a bar; the preceding traipse across the city had taken less than a couple of hours meaning it was no later than two. You squinted at the neon sign in the window, the words hard to read in the afternoon glare. 'Grue's Cellar' it read. Instantly you thought of the curly-haired man with tired brown eyes Mnemosyne had appeared as in front of Dante and it wasn't too difficult to guess the connection Dante had with this place; Grue wasn't exactly a common word, let alone name. 

"No such thing as too early in this business."

"And what kind of business is that?" 

"The kind done by bandits, mercenaries and other sorts of miscreants," Vigna spoke as though he were reading off a grocery list.

"You and your devil-may-care attitude..." you tried to hide the nervousness from your voice, well aware there could be trouble. You'd never had to seriously fight another human before, _hell_ , the most self aware demon you had faced had been Ratatoskr.

"You can wait out here if you'd like. I doubt you'd come across any real trouble out front in broad daylight."

Well, so much for that. Either you were horrible at masking your feelings or Vigna was as sharp as a tack— possibly both.

"I... okay," You conceded. 

"It shouldn't take too long. I'll come back as soon as possible," there was no condescension in his voice, no mockery; not even a hint of disappointment.

Needless to say, it wasn't long after Vigna went inside that you decided to follow him in. This was hardly the worst situation you had been in and there was surely more to come. Thiriel and the Sons were fully sentient, autonomous beings— no different than humans in that regard. You couldn't let yourself be rattled here.

The inside of the bar was dimly lit with an assortment of overhanging lights, likely for anonymity as much as it was for ambience. Other than a few curious glances, the clustered groups of men paid you little mind. Their attentions, as you quickly came to find, were too focused on Vigna and the barkeep to care about some strange woman timidly moseying her way in. 

"Look, pal, I already told ya: I'm not gonna just give out info to any rando that walks in here! Not how it works!" The bartender's voice was a brash timbre that easily carried through the room despite the fact he wasn't yelling. It was oddly familiar.

Vigna, for some inconceivable reason, laughed impetuously. 

"Glad you find that so amusing, but that doesn't change anything, Chuckles, so how about you..."  
The man trailed off as he spotted you frozen in place a few paces behind Vigna. The barkeep was fairly stocky and muscular, the wide expanse of his shoulders softened by the roundness of his oval face. His hair was dark and cropped high and tight and his eyes were amber, widely set and downturned giving his face a kind appearance. 

"Get the fuck outta here..." It wasn't so much a command as it was a statement, the man's eyes as round as saucers as he dropped his polishing rag on the bar counter, "Get the fuck outta here!" The smile he cracked was enormous as he practically leapt over the bar and approached you, "I can't even believe it but I'd recognize you anywhere, _____! Do you, uh, know who _I_ am?"

From the distance that you now stood you could see his eyes were hued slighty too yellow to be natural; _humanly_ natural that was. You could barely manage your next sentence before tears sprang from your eyes,

"Of course I do... Griffon."


	5. Chapter 14

You were given the bear hug of a lifetime. Griffon took you in his arms and swung you around as easily if you had been a sack of flour. You laughed and laughed as he did so, completely overjoyed. You couldn't really call it a reunion considering it was the first time the two of you had actually met, but spiritually there was no denying that it was as such; the connection instant and familiar. 

"Oh, man! Still can't believe it's you!" He reiterated his shock as he put you back down.

"Well, kinda," you reminded him gently, "I heard that where you're from I... well... died."

Griffon frowned.

"Yeah, well, I guess you're right considering the different dimension shit... So, what happened to the me here? I'm curious to know."

"Well, Vergil reformed and they decided, all three of them, that it would be better not to... exist... anymore."

Griffon let out a low whistle as he raked his hands over his head.

"Damn, that's kinda heavy. Can't say I wouldn't have done the same— poor bastards! Sucks to be them, heh, heh!"

" _Griffon_!"

"Oh, _what_? You think if the other guy was in my place, he wouldn't say the same thing? C'mon, like he cares! I think I would know considering _I am the damn guy_!" He laughed a bit but when he saw you weren't convinced he composed himself, "Look, Missy, at the end of the day I'm Griffon, you're ______. If you keep splitting hairs about all this you're going to drive yourself nuts! Speaking of nuts... _you_ could only be one person... lemme have a look that ol' mug of yours, V!"

"Hmm... took you long enough to realize," Vigna smirked as he lowered his hood and lifted his mask, "you must be getting soft."

"Heh! Well, a couple years livin' like this will do that to ya!" The two shared a warm embrace before Griffon made his way back behind the bar and began polishing glasses, "So, be honest, did you come here lookin' for me?"

"I was only intending on getting information but meeting you here has been... the luck of the devil. We could use your help if you'd be willing and able to lend it."

"I see time hasn't done much to improve your sense of humor, huh, V?" The corners of Griffon's eyes crinkled as he laughed, "I need to finish up my shift here and talk to the owners first but you know I'm here for ya, kid. _Shadow_ on the other hand..." Griffon trailed off for a bit focusing intently on the glass he was polishing, "it's a long story and we _definitely_ need to catch up sometime but to summarize, things weren't exactly easy for us when we got here— especially not for Shadow. Tried livin' in the wild and that was a goddamn nightmare; humans tryin' to hunt us for sport and, at the end of the day, neither one of us are actually stupid ass animals so that got old real quick. But livin' life as a regular human sucks! I mean, _look_ at me for fuckssake! It's been even harder for Shadow as you can imagine."

"Does Shadow work here too?" You craned your neck to look around. Seeing Griffon in human form was bizarre enough but it was extremely difficult to imagine the proud, sleek Shadow walking around like a regular human. 

"Nah, he's workin' at a place a few blocks from here called 'The Riff Tide'— corny ass name for a jazz club if you ask me!" Griffon laughed.

" _Jazz_ club? Okay, now this I gotta see!" You looked at Vigna beseechingly, hoping the man was just as intrigued as you were about the fate of his former companion. His eyes held a certain warmth as he looked you, a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips.

"How do we get to this club?" Vigna addressed Griffon, combing his fingers through his hair. 

"There's an alley out back, take a left and just keep following it and you'll find it soon enough. It's a little tricky to see at first, but if you come across a place called 'The Dump', you've gone too far."

"How will we know him when we see him? What does he do?" You bounced on the balls of your feet, buzzing with excitement and all sorts of questions. 

"What, and spoil the surprise? No way! I have faith in the two of you," Griffon gave a mischievous grin, "but, I'll be on break soon so I'll pop on over there then. Oh, and that place is pretty mainstream so no way that mask'll fly over there— just thought I'd give you a heads up there, Zorro."

"Hmph."

Vigna made no further comment as he turned and walked away.

"So, you'll be there soon?" You felt hesitant to leave Griffon's side so abruptly, half afraid you'd never see him again.

"Sure, sure! Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me? Legit question by the way."

"No, the Griffon I knew was always a man—er— bird of his word."

"Well, there ya go. Now get your ass outta here," Griffon made a shooing gesture with his bar rag. His eyes narrowed slyly in an expression oh too familiar to you, "Wouldn't want to keep you from Romeo."

"What? We're not— it's not like that between us."

"Sure, sure; where have I heard _that_ one before?"

"I'm leaving now," you said dryly. What did that bird-brain know anyway? You heard him erupt in a fit of laughter as you scrambled to catch up with your companion. As it turned out such haste was unwarranted for Vigna was awaiting you near the entryway. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" you cried out in greeting once you reached him. 

"No need to worry... 'Time, that aged nurse, rocked me to patience.' Shall we?"

You smiled.

"Let's."

*************

'The Riff Tide' had been moderately difficult to find just as Griffon had warned. You had nearly walked right past it when Vigna noticed the rather small and unassuming sign above a set of stairs that led downwards; the club was apparently one of those basement dives. A series of flashing, blue neon arrows directed you along a dingey gray hallway; it was a safe bet that the glowing signage was in place for aesthetic's sake for the route was otherwise rather direct. After paying the doorman a pretty negligible cover charge and receiving a fluorescent stamp on your hands, the door to the club opened and flooded the hall with melody. 

The club wasn't too shabby in your opinion. It was much darker than 'Grue's Cellar' had been, dimly lit with moody blue lighting save for the small, brightly lit stage that a live band was currently playing on. Dozens of small, circular tables dotted the floor, each topped with a small, burning candle. The place wasn't exactly packed but had a fair amount of patrons considering it was a weekday afternoon. 

You and Vigna decided to take a seat near the stage, uncertain what your next move would be. On the plus side, the band wasn't half bad; they were playing a very swingy cover of Nat King Cole's 'L-O-V-E.' Vigna lightly drummed his fingers in time to the music as he watched them. 

"L is for the way you look at me. O is for the only one I see," the singer's voice was rich and pitch perfect, "V is very, very... extraordinary—"

Vigna locked eyes with you during this line, cockily raising his brows at you as if to infer the lyrics were about him. You laughed at his playful display of arrogance and tried to ignore how the action made your heart skip a beat but ultimately you had to concede that it was, in fact, pretty damn hot. It didn't hurt that the lights were extremely flattering to the man either. You watched as the corner his mouth turned upwards, clearly aware of the effect he just had on you. He tossed his hair as he returned his attention back to the band and you zeroed in on them as well, filling your thoughts with nothing but how good the sax player's improvisations were during his solo; definitely nothing else. 

******************

The pair of you sat and watched the band play a couple more songs and while you were thoroughly enjoying their performance, you were beginning to worry how you would ever find Shadow amidst the club's dark ambience. Finally the music ceased and the singer addressed the crowd, his microphone whining with a tad bit of feedback.

"Well, folks, we're going to be taking a short break; hope you've all been enjoying your time here. Thank you!"

There was a scattering of applause from the crowd, including yourself and Vigna. A distant clack could be heard as the harsh stage lights were turned off and replaced with softer aquamarine lighting that blended well with the blue that lit the majority of the room. There was a short crackle before pre-recorded music began to play, the sound carried by unseen speakers. Vigna stood and began to approach the stage, still clapping his hands. Could it be that Shadow was one of the men onstage? Most of the band continued their way offstage but the saxophonist, with his bramble of dark, shoulder length hair and sunglasses, stopped and took notice of Vigna. The sax player was still for a moment, as though his eyes were still adjusting from the bright stage lights, before you saw the briefest flicker of red behind the man's shades as he scowled and disappeared to some back room, Vigna following right behind him. Well, that settled the matter: the man was definitely Shadow although your mind was reeling at the mere thought. You swallowed nervously as you trailed behind the men; Shadow obviously was still holding on to some anger towards his former ring leader and while you couldn't see the situation becoming violent, you felt like things were surely going to become emotionally volatile. 

The room you and Vigna followed Shadow into was a veritable hodgepodge; part dressing room, part storage crammed with racks of tuxedos and sequined dresses, sealed boxes and the odd artificial plant scattered here and there. The room was lit only by the lights above a solitary mirror attached to the wall. 

"I know you aren't happy with me but it is good to see you," In the small, cluttered space Vigna's voice was clear and crisp.

Shadow's eyes flashed behind his sunglasses again as he shot him a toothy glower and turned away, busying himself with his saxophone case. You and Vigna shared a dubious glance, uncertain of how to proceed— that was until you were hit with a sudden realization.

"Hey, Shadow," your voice came out quiet and more diffident than usual, "You probably have a lot you want to say to V, don't you? Could it be you aren't able to voice those thoughts aloud?"

Shadow froze for a moment before letting the lid of his instrument case fall to a close. Tentatively he turned to face you, almost as if he were noticing your presence for the first time. He lowered his glasses and stared at you with placid, light brown eyes and then responded with a slow and shallow nod. So, he was mute afterall.

Not a moment later did Griffon come bowling through the door, huffing and covered in a sheen of sweat. 

"Forgot... to mention... he's mute," Griffon slumped into a nearby chair as he tried to catch his breath, "probably should've at least mentioned _that._ "

"Your timing is... impeccable." Vigna quirked a brow at the incapacitated man.

"Oh, ha, ha. Real funny," came Griffon's dry reply as he mopped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. 

Shadow looked on at his friend with a stony, unimpressed look.

"Oh, boy I know that look," Griffon sighed wearily, "out with it already."

Shadow ripped into his friend with a barrage of fervent hand signs and signals that seemed to display a myriad of emotions.

"Oh, come off it! Don't act like you're not even the _slightest_ bit glad to see him! Besides, I thought you'd be happy to see ______!"

Shadow looked over at you once again and touched his index finger to his chin and his middle finger to his chest as he focused back on Griffon.

"'Bittersweet', eh? Well, I suppose that's fair. But it's not like we went out and replaced her with another goldfish— it's still ____!"

You had to laugh at Griffon's morbid sense of humor although you agreed with Shadow on the whole affair feeling bittersweet. Shadow signed some more, this time his wild eyes fixed on Vigna while Griffon continued to interpret.

"'You were right about me being angry. It's hard to forgive you after you took away any choice I had and practically forced me into a world I wasn't equipped to live in.'"

"I have heard a bit about your struggles from Griffon and I can see how... _hard_ you must have worked to fit in with humankind," Vigna addressed Shadow in that rich lilting tone of his,"but... I can also see the fruits of your labor; you've found your voice... in more ways than one."

"'What you call 'fruits my labor' are skills I picked up out of necessity. I couldn't care less about the saxophone or human music, I just happened to be good at it. I HATE being in this form, it's unnatural and confining.'"

"Heh, amen to that!" Griffon added as aside.

"More unnatural and confining than being bound to me?" Vigna asked quietly, less a challenge than it was a genuine curiosity.

"'Easily! We belong with you, it's that simple. But you betrayed my trust...'"

"I truly only wanted what was best for you but beyond that..." Vigna paused as though he were debating on whether to finish his sentence, "I... wanted to have every _choice_ available to myself as well."

"V... are you sayin' what I think you are?" Griffon asked without a trace of humor. 

"It was merely a part of my... growing pains," Vigna explained with a flourish of his hand, "I have never felt as comfortable or secure with my own being as I do now so don't worry— 'I will clamber through the clouds and exist.'"

At this, Griffon burst into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry, sorry!" He clutched his stomach with one hand and held the other out at Vigna imploringly, "I know this matter is serious but it's just nice to see that some things don't change, Shakespeare."

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream rang out cutting short the tender moment. It was followed by another and then another, prompting the four of you to file out of the room to investigate. 

A motley crew of demons were wreaking havoc upon the club and its unsuspecting denizens, many of the patrons cowering in fear. Vigna turned to Griffon and Shadow, as cool and level headed as always even amongst the prevailing chaos.

"Leave these vermin to us," he said to them, "No point in blowing your cover here, just evacuate the people."

The duo both looked like they wanted to protest, but ultimately heeded their former master's words. As the club steadily emptied of humans you found yourself in the center of the room, Vigna by your side. He readied himself as he called forth his Devil Arm, the black of his hair scattering away and leaving it its perfect inverse. You conjured Phantom, willing him into a size that would let him fight effectively against his foes but not utterly destroy the humble establishment. From atop a balcony a squat and ghoulish demon wailed from within the stage's technical booth before springing off the soundboard and onto the floor below. Suddenly, the music that was playing at a level meant for casual listening was blaring.

You can't say you ever thought you'd be kicking demon ass to Bing Crosby's cover of 'Puttin' on the Ritz' but here you were. Armored wraiths attacking with flying javelins were easily brought to heel by a well timed blast from Vigna, a wide gap in their armor showing whenever they wound up for an attack. Droves of the squat demons —that were deceptively agile and able to deflate their bodies at will— were no match against Phantom's dexterous, barbed tail; your short sword then putting an end to their pale, writhing existence. Vigna looked like he was positively _living_ for this battle. As he bounded and slid over tables and expertly dodged the demon's attacks, it seemed more like the poet was dancing rather than fighting. 

'Strolling up the Avenue so happy.' _Blam!_ _Blam!_ 'All dressed up just like an English chappie—' _Blam! Blam, blam blam!_

All battles had a rhythm but usually not quite like this. Vigna's extravagance was infectious. You found yourself commanding Phantom to fire small, concentrated blasts at your foes in time to the music; your finishing stabs containing more pizazz than usual. Soon, only a singular enemy remained. Vigna stood upon the table with his back turned haughtily towards the foul beast. You and Vigna locked eyes and you felt the silliest urge to toss him your sword... 

So you did.

The lissome man dematerialized his gun and caught your blade with exceptional poise. He spun on the ball of his foot at the exact moment the demon decided to leap at him, the sword piercing through the foe and ending the battle just as the song ended in a dazzling crescendo— talk about panache.

"Get a load of you two! Quite the show stoppin' little number there!" Griffon slapped his thigh and laughed boisterously. Shadow was also by his side; arms folded at his chest and with an expression that denoted he was at least mildly impressed. The pair must have slipped back in sometime after helping the patrons escape.

"I'm pleased that you enjoyed the show," Vigna gave a short chuckle.

"It was hard to just stand and watch!" Griffon turned to Shadow then, "you can't tell me you don't miss that!"

Shadow readjusted his sunglasses and frowned before signing in a slow, begrudging manner.

""That looked fun' he says! Well, at least he admits it!" Griffon cackled.

Phantom approached the pair and finally broke his silence.

"Am I to understand that these two," he pointed one his spindly front legs at the duo, "are _Griffon_ and _Shadow_?"

"Yep," you confirmed with a nod. 

Griffon smiled uncomfortably and Shadow turned away. Phantom was silent, his body trembling. But just when you were about to worry--

"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!" The arachnid fell over in a fit of laughter, rolling onto his back with his massive legs curled inwards, "You look _ridiculous_! BWHAHAHAHAHA!" 

Vigna too began to laugh and although you gave his shoulder a soft, reproachful smack you found yourself snickering right alongside him. 


	6. Chapter 15

In the wake of the battle, Shadow decided he would lend his strength to Vigna. 

"'Looks like I'm out of a job anyway,' he says. Hah!"

The damage done inside 'The Riff Tide' while not inconsiderable was hardly what one would call extensive. The real damage was undoubtedly dealt to the club's reputation; it was a safe bet that today's patrons probably would not be in any hurry to return and word would inevitably get out. It was a shame, really. You felt a pang of guilt and when you looked to Vigna you could see the same emotion painted upon his features tenfold. You wanted to reach out and comfort him but ultimately stayed your hand.

Shadow felt duty bound to stay behind at 'The Riff Tide' in order to help clean up but promised to meet up with you, Vigna, and Griffon as soon as he was able. After safely recalling your familiar, the three of you headed back to 'Grue's Cellar' in order to wait out your friend's arrival and for Griffon to finish up his shift at the bar. When you finally made it back an older woman behind the bar gave Griffon a hard look.

"Took you long enough!" The woman's speech was slightly slurred as she pulled her graying hair back into a messy bun, "The extra time you were gone is coming out of your pay check!"

Griffon rolled his eyes. 

"Oh, yeah? Just like all the booze you've been nickin' is comin' outta yours?"

The woman sneered at him as she made her way out from behind the bar— a bottle of whiskey in hand— and took a seat at a booth in the corner. She continued to glare at Griffon even from across the room as she nursed the bottle. 

"So, who was that?" your curiosity got the better of you as you and Vigna sat at the bar. 

"Oh, _that_ old bag?" Griffon scoffed as he fished out some glasses from under the counter, "That's Sally, she's practically a part of the scenery at this point; she was a regular back when this place was called 'Bobby's Cellar' and Dante still frequented the joint. She helped raise the current owners, which you'd never guess because _they_ are actually _pleasant_ to be around." 

You nodded, satisfied by his answer. You looked to your left, gazing at nothing and no one in particular as you mind buzzed with everything that had taken place in just three short days. Before you could get too lost in thought, you heard the soft thud of two glasses being set down in front of you and looked to find a glass mug full of steaming, dark amber liquid.

"It's on me! You two fought well today— total superstars! You've earned it."

"I'm not so sure in my case," Vigna sighed as he cradled the glass between his hands, "considering it's likely my fault the place was attacked." 

Even in his woe the summoner managed to look lovely, his downcast eyes putting his thick lashes on full display. You felt an ache in your chest. Those demons surely belonged to Thiriel, of that you had little doubt. Vigna was a potential threat that served no greater purpose towards Thiriel's sick vision of Utopia; it made sense the demon would send his minions to either hunt or hinder the apprentice. Although, a part of you suspected Thiriel was enough of a psychopath that he would target Vigna regardless— their brief interaction in the demon world spoke volumes.

Griffon snorted.

"Oh, so _you_ sent those demons to attack the place then?" 

"No, but I—"

"'But' nothin' pal. Look, I don't know the full story but you didn't ask to be attacked. Stop blamin' yourself."

You reached out and touched the man's back, unable to talk yourself out of it this time.

"He's right, you know," you assured him, "Thiriel did this and we know for sure he _can_ and _will_ do worse if nobody stops him."

Vigna's gaze met yours and his expression brightened considerably.

"You're right," he relented, dividing his attention between you and Griffon, "both of you." 

He raised his glass in cheers as he looked at you with eyes that seemed to smile. You gave your mug a little raise in return and both of you drank. The heated mead was refreshing, surprisingly sweet and left a warm, satisfying trail you could feel straight down to your stomach. Vigna tilted his head back as he drank, his throat bobbing as he took a couple swallows. There was something so understatedly attractive about it; or perhaps you only found it attractive because you found Vigna himself to be attractive? 

"Thirsty, aren't ya?" Griffon chuckled, his wide shoulders shaking in time with his laughter. His statement had been an open one but he eyed you in particular, shooting you a knowing look. You turned your attention back to your mead and took a long drink, your face warm but not from the alcohol. 

"So, this place— you're familiar with it?" you were determined to make some small talk, eager to chase away any unwanted feelings.

"Relatively speaking," Vigna answered after taking another sip of his drink, "as Griffon mentioned before, this place was more of Dante's scene."

"So, Dante... I'm guessing he was a mercenary?" It was hard to imagine the red coated hunter doing anything _too_ underhanded like smuggling or stealing— not his style.

"You guess correctly. Although he went by Tony Redgrave in those days."

Tony Redgrave... where have you heard that name before? Your brow crumpled in concentration as you thought back to when you had first met Jeffrey; he had mentioned his shotgun had once belonged to a Tony Redgrave. What an amazing coincidence. 

"Tony Redgrave, huh?" you chuckled a bit, "Gee, Dante is only slightly better at picking out pseudonyms than you are "

"Hmm...that could be. Or maybe I was never actually trying to hide."

"So, like a power move then?" you shook your head a bit before grinning at the dark haired man, "you've got quite the pair, don't you?"

"Have I?" His tone was throaty and suggestive, the question punctured with a complacent, lopsided smile. You could already feel your face flushing but weren't going to let the man win this round of verbal sparing.

"Of course, why else did you walk with a limp for so long?" 

Vigna stared at you with wide eyes, completely caught off guard by your response. He brought his glass to his lips and lowered it a few times before breaking out into a string of low chuckles. Griffon, who was busy refilling some patrons' glasses, looked over curiously.

"I feel like I missed a good joke!" he sounded every bit a child that had been left out.

"I'll tell you later," Vigna managed, finally collecting himself. 

"You'd better!"

Meanwhile you were inwardly fretting, unsure if you were pleased you managed to ruffle the puckish man or embarrassed by your vulgar assertion. Vigna looked back over at you, lips still curved into a smile. Upon seeing how pink his cheeks had become, you decided it was well worth it.

**********

The next thirty minutes or so was filled with easy conversation between you and Vigna, Griffon occasionally weighing in with an opinion or little tidbit of his own. This probably would have continued until your visit at the bar concluded if a raised, angry voice of a nearby man hadn't caught Vigna's attention. 

"This game is a bunch of bullshit!" The man pushed in his chair with such rough savagery it toppled over, "nobody under the age of seventy actually plays this shit anymore!" 

With that, the man sulked his way out of the bar, leaving his companion—an older mustachioed fellow wearing a tweed jacket— alone at the table with a game of chess spread out before him. You felt Vigna touch your arm as he stood.

"I'll be back," he assured you, his green eyes dancing. 

Vigna's long stride closed the distance between the bar and the man's table in seconds flat. Wordlessly, he bent down and set the chair right side up. 

"Mind trying me as an opponent?"

The older man stroked his mustache and chin as he gave Vigna a thoughtful once over.

"I don't know," the man sighed, "I was just informed people under seventy don't actually play chess and you look quite young by my estimate. Sure you can handle it?"

"Indulge me." You could practically hear the smirk in Vigna's voice. 

"Very well. Black or white?"

"I'm fine playing black," came Vigna's cool response as he sat himself down. By now you were hardly the only one watching, the pair's imminent game garnering a fair amount of attention.

"Careful, overconfidence makes fools of us all."

"Overconfident?" Vigna sounded amused as he set his pieces back in their starting positions, "Well, not in this case. I simply have... _faith_ in my ability."

"This should be interesting," the stranger's eyes seemed to glitter in excitement.

"Well, strap in, girlie," Griffon shook his head with a sigh, "this could take a while."

************

Vigna slid his rook forward.

"Checkmate."

The match went on for an hour but you were silently thankful it had only gone on for _that_ long; you knew that chess matches between seasoned players could go on for hours. 

"I should have known from the moment you pulled a castling you were no amateur," there was nothing but admiration in the older man's voice, "well done, my boy; I do believe it was I who _underestimated_ you." The man handed Vigna a fat wad of cash and the poet stood awkwardly with his arm stiffly outstretched.

"I wasn't aware we were playing for money..." Vigna tried to return the bills but the older man simply laughed and held up his hands in refusal.

"Honestly, that makes your victory all the more impressive! Keep it, I insist...?" The man trailed off, uncertain of his young opponent's name.

"Vigna," he offered his hand and the mustachioed man shook it with glee.

"Anthonio," he answered in kind, "You play a tight game, Vigna; haven't had a challenge like that in a long while! I'd love a rematch one day."

"Perhaps," Vigna smiled the carefully guarded smile of a man not in any position to make promises. 

"I will be cautiously optimistic," Anthonio smiled kindly and poured two shots of bourbon. He raised up his glass, "To a game well played!"

Vigna raised his glass amicably and the two downed their shots before Vigna made his way back to the bar where you sat in waiting.

"So... that went well," you rested your face in your hand as you leaned upon the counter. A smile spread across your lips; you were impressed and, frankly, just happy to see the man parake in an activity that he obviously enjoys.

"Better than expected," he gave the bundle of cash a bit of a wave before tucking it safely away, "looks like _I_ will be the one treating _you_ to dinner." The smile he flashed then was unexpectedly sincere and so completely disarming that the barriers you had placed around your heart didn't stand a fair fight. 

"Can't wait," came your reply and damn if it wasn't the truth.

**********

A few moments passing saw the arrival of two women who favored Grue so much that they hardly required any introduction.

"I was wonderin' when you broads would get here!" Griffon brayed as he wiped down the bar with a different cloth he pulled out from under the counter.

The taller of the two women simply smiled while the shorter grinned and muttered "broads" under her breath as they both joined Griffon behind the bar. Griffon turned his attention to you and Vigna.

"Let me introduce Tiki and Nesty, the owners of this fine establishment," he then turned to the owners, "Girls, these are my friends ______ and V."

You all smiled and nodded amiably at one another before Tiki zeroed in on Vigna.

"Hey, haven't I seen you somewhere? You've been in here before, right?"

"A couple years ago I came here for Morrison," Vigna confirmed, "my visit was quite... _brief_. I'm surprised you remember me."

"Ah, I knew it!" Tiki had a smile that could light up a room, "It would've come to me eventually; I never forget a face."

"So, is _he_ the friend you mentioned when you first started working here?" Nesty asked Griffon.

"Sure is!"

Nesty frowned a bit.

"Does that mean you're leaving then?"

"Afraid so."

Nesty's frown deepened.

"Ness, don't pout. We knew this day would come afterall," her older sister chided.

"Who's pouting?" came Nesty's glum retort while most definitely pouting.

"Look on the bright side," Griffon suggested, "Sally's gonna be _stoked_ that I'm finally leavin'!" 

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Tiki smiled wryly, "with you gone she might have to go back to actually working." Tiki jabbed her thumb towards Sally who was now dozing off in her booth, her bottle of hooch still firmly in her clutches. Griffon and the two women shared a laugh that indicated that this sight wasn't exactly uncommon. 

"We're going to miss you, Griffon," Nesty's brows knitted above her dark brown eyes.

"Yeah, you were a good help— make sure you come visit us from time to time," Tiki wagged an authoritative finger at Griffon.

"I will, I will! Sheesh. Getting all mushy on me..." Griffon flapped the rag in his hands dismissively, "guess all that's left is to wait on Shadow."

"You mean that saxophone guy you're always with?" Nesty gestured towards the end of the bar and, sure enough, there sat Shadow. He must've slipped in unnoticed at some point; you wondered how long he'd been there.

"Great, then I guess everything's settled!" Relief seemed to wash over Griffon's features and after a full shift of minding the bar you couldn't say you blamed him. 

"Before you leave, could I ask you a question?" the inquiry came from Tiki and was directed at Vigna.

"...Sure," the summoner seemed mildly surprised to be addressed again by one of the sisters.

"This is going to sound weird but are you by chance related to a Tony Redgrave? I'm not quite sure what it is but there's _something_ about you that reminds me of him."

You had to hand it to her, Tiki certainly was perceptive.

"I am. I guess I'm his... half brother... more or less."

"I see... how is he? Is he well?" 

"Better than he has been in awhile I suspect, but don't take my word for it— you should ask him yourself," Vigna took out his notebook and scribbled some numbers on a page before ripping it out and handing it to the older sister, "you might not be able to reach him for a while but... you should give him a call or send him a letter. It would mean more than he'd ever admit to hear from either of you."

Tiki and Nesty both looked over the paper with identical expressions of bittersweet nostalgia.

"Thank you," Tiki said softly.

************

Almost the very moment the four of you stepped out of the building, Vigna proceded to stumble and nearly fall over. Luckily, you had the wherewithal to reach out and catch him. 

"Holy shit V, are you _drunk_?"

"No..." he attempted to stand apart from you before staggering once again, "Perhaps."

It probably wasn't the best idea to drink while skipping out on dinner. C'est la vie!

"Kid, you are something beyond a lightweight— you're a stinkin' featherweight," Griffon laughed like he just made the funniest joke in the world. 

"'Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!'" Vigna recited as he frowned a bit.

"Yeah, yeah. Cool your jets, Shakespeare," Griffon then turned to you, "let's get him to our place, it's only about a half a block away."

To your shock, Griffon started walking ahead. Shadow shot you what you thought was an apologetic look before jogging to catch up to his lifelong friend. Shadow caught Griffon by the shoulder, pointed at you and Vigna and then signed.

"Well, I could ask you the same question: why aren't _you_ helping them?" Griffon folded his arms as he stared down his companion.

Shadow glanced over at you and Vigna and you didn't need to understand what he was signing to know he was still upset with the poet. 

"Okay, and my reason is..." Griffon trailed off and continued his thought in sign language.

Shadow signed a short and animated phrase.

"'They aren't already?' Hahaha! No, so..." Griffon broke back into sign and whatever he said seemed to appease Shadow, the two of them continuing on ahead. 

"Sorry about this... and _them_ ," Vigna's voice possessed more of a rumbling timbre than usual, the scent of alcohol hanging on his warm breath. The two of you trailed behind Vigna's ex-familiars, Vigna's arm draped around your shoulder just in case he stumbled again. 

"They mean well," you said with a timid chuckle. It was night by now and your words came out in small puffs against the cold. The pair were hardly as covert in their intentions they fancied themselves to be but you found it honestly kind of sweet. Speaking of... 

"It was really nice of you— what you did for Dante back there."

"Hmm... I doubt he would see it that way..."

"That might be true," you agreed, "but Dante sometimes needs a bit of push when it comes to these things."

"Meanwhile, I have a tendency to be a bit... _implusive_ ," between the sensuous rasp of his voice, the rosy tinge of his cheeks and the way his eyelids lowered lightly atop those sage eyes of his it was hard to deny that you were feeling... things.

"Haha... same," you choked out lamely and immediately wished you had just stayed quiet. 

************

Coming up upon Griffon and Shadow's small duplex apartment felt like a godsend. Griffon opened the door and allowed you and Vigna first passage.

"Home sweet home!" Griffon declared.

The lights came on to reveal probably the saddest bachelor pad in existence. The most striking thing about it was how incredibly empty it was. Two well worn lazy boy recliners sat in front of a bulky, antiquated television set, a rickety table and group of mismatched chairs could be seen admist the darkness of their humble kitchen. A door standing ajar gave a peek into their tiny, bare bones bathroom; the standing shower taking up so much space you were certain it was probably in violation of at least one fire code. A single door remained closed, possibly leading to a bedroom.

"It's nice. Very... um... minimalist," you tried to muster up something polite to say.

"Oh, ____ you are so full of shit but in like the nicest possible way!" Griffon replied as he shut the front door, "bedroom's over there, don't mind us!"

He gestured towards the closed door but you had to wonder where exactly the demonic duo planned on sleeping. You didn't have to wonder long. In a feat that nearly made you rub your eyes in disbelief, the pair tranformed into their more familiar (heh) demonic selves; Griffon roosting atop one of the recliners and Shadow lazily draping their body on the other. Griffon must've taken note of your shock.

"What? You didn't think we actually _slept_ in those meat sacks did you? Uh, no offense."

You didn't know _what_ you had expected, to be honest. You guessed it made sense that they wouldn't keep up their human facades in order to sleep; it likely took at least some amount of energy to stay like that all day. 

"None taken."

You made your way into the bedroom and were temporarily confused about the emptiness you found there until you looked at the wall and noticed the tell-tale signs of a Murphy bed. You left Vigna standing alone— his posture only _slightly_ tottery— and then pulled on the handle and lowered the bed out of the wall with ease. 

"Goodnight, you two!" Griffon shouted from the living room, his tone cloyingly sweet, "Now, make sure you leave the door open at _least_ six inches; don't want there to be any funny bus—"

Vigna closed the door with a little more force than necessary, cutting off any further jabs from the chatty bird. He shuffled over to the bed and after managing to get his cowl off he flopped onto the mattress, not bothering to remove his boots. You smiled to yourself and you slipped out off your own boots. Afterwards, you sat down at the edge of the bed and worked at loosening Vigna's laces. The action made the man jerk up, bracing himself on his elbows in order to look at you.

"You don't have to do that," you weren't entirely certain but he seemed a little flustered, a flicker of what looked like self consciousness passing over his countenance. 

"I don't mind it, but if you rather I didn't..."

"I'd imagine they rather smell..." 

"They're feet V, I've smelled worse."

"Well, do not say you weren't warned."

Despite his worries there was no notable smell when you removed his boots and you settled in bed beside him without fuss. You exchanged goodnights but you found it hard to sleep, your mind riddled with questions. 

"Hey, Vigna... may I ask you a question?"

"Mmhmm, you may even ask another if you like."

Smartass.

"Does it bother you when I call you V like I did eariler?"

"Not at all. I'm rather content that you should call me anything... well, almost anything," he added with a faint grimace.

"Gotcha." Calling him Vergil would definitely be a slap in the face at this point. You tried to settle down but yet another question plagued your mind.

"Vigna?"

"Mmm?"

"When this is all over, are you going to go back to the Underworld?"

"It's a... _possibility_... I suppose it's something I'll need to seriously consider sooner or later."

"I see." It wasn't the answer you were hoping to hear. The thought of never seeing him again made you more distressed than you would have liked to admit.

"Hey, ____?" 

"Yeah?"

"Why did you leave Vergil?"

You weren't expecting such a personal question and the directness of it made your heart leap into your throat. You took a second to collect your thoughts, debating on if you wanted to answer.

"Sometimes when I think about the whole memory thing, I feel so petty because I understand why he did what he did. But it was one of those moments where it felt like losing him... losing _V_ all over again. And it made me realise that he was who I've been in love with all this time. In some other lifetime maybe I could have come to love Vergil, the _whole_ of him... but I just couldn't deal with losing everything I'd shared with V forever when it was _he_ who chose it."

"I think that's fair. He made a gamble... he knew what he was risking." 

"Yeah... maybe..."

The two of you laid in silence for a time before Vigna turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow in order to face you more directly.

"____... are you... _attracted_... to me?"

You could pratically hear the blood rushing to your head. Both words and thoughts failed you, leaving you to simply gape at the dark haired man. When you said nothing he continued.

"If you are, do you feel... _guilty_ about it? That's how it was for me at first. It felt _wrong_ , too _soon_... but all the shame in the world didn't change how I felt. 'Life is divine Chaos. It's messy, and it's supposed to be that way.' So I stopped worrying over things I couldn't change."

You were pretty sure he was admitting he was attracted to you which, while hardly a revelation or anything, him saying it outloud suddenly made it feel real.

"Are you still drunk?" 

"Hardly."

You weren't sure who went in for the kiss first but when his lips met yours it felt like complete circuitry overload. Every cell in your body seemed to hum as the fullness of his lips pressed against yours; caressing them and overtaking them, begging every inch of you to be drawn in by his undeniable magnetism. He brushed his lips against yours, the shuddering breath that left his mouth entreating you for further exploration which you were all too willing to oblige. His deepened kisses held the lingering taste of bourbon and dominated with softness; every stroke of his tongue a persuasion rather than an order, every crush of his lips a proposal more than a command. Your limited field of vision in the darkened room seemed to heighten your auditory senses; every pant, sigh, and every wet, sensual sound that eminated from the meeting of your lips and tongues felt like a touch upon your burning skin. You couldn't decide if it all felt brand new or old hat but the whole experience was driving you wild. Your fingers tangled in his dark tresses— oh, god how good it felt to finally touch his hair both again and for the first time— and you kissed him ardently, feverishly. Suddenly his mouth just didn't feel like enough; your lips found their way down to his jaw and then that supple neck his, loving the throb of his pulse beneath your lips. You continued on, licking and sucking, until you earned yourself a delicious, throaty moan. 

He pulled back at last, his hands lovingly stroking your hair.

"I think... I shall be able sleep soundly tonight," he breathed, "you've given me plenty of fodder for pleasant dreams."

"We should both be so lucky," your voice came out tremulous, still on cloud nine.

"I'll wake you if I notice you're in distress."

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. Let me be your dreamcatcher," he gave you a kiss on the forehead and you smiled.

Maybe your spider could do with a web.


	7. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for this chapter! I haven't had much free time lately, like, at all. Sorry also for all the damn exposition, I swear this story *is* buidling up to something... eventually. 😅

You roused from sleep feeling relatively well-rested— something that didn't happen very often nowadays. Vigna's back was turned towards you so it was difficult to tell with any kind of certainty if the man was awake or still slept. If he was asleep, you really didn't want to wake him; the past couple of days had been inarguably rigorous. Besides that you were really in no rush to face the poet. No longer emboldened by the cover of night, you were feeling rather shy about last night's interactions and nervous about Vigna's impending reaction. What if things were weird between the two of you now or what if he regrets what happened? Worst of all, what if he had still been considerably drunk and you ended up taking advantage of him? You didn't think you could bear it. 

Slowly, you began to slide out bed only for the traitorous mattress springs to creak and groan loudly beneath you. Vigna turned towards you, either alerted or awakened by the sound.

"Good morning," he looked the same as always but you weren't certain if that should relieve you or make you feel all the more anxious.

"Morning," your unspoken worries weighed heavily upon the single word that left your lips.

"You seem... upset," Vigna sat up, his brows pinching together as he looked on at you, awaiting an explanation. You licked your lips and swallowed. Well, better to just ask then.

"So, last night... just how hammered _were_ you?" 

Upon hearing your question all the tension from Vigna's face slackened, save his eyebrow which he quirked at you.

"So, _that's_ what's troubling you," he sounded relieved, "allow me to put your mind at ease. The only part the alcohol played in last night's... _activities_... was in dulling my inhibitions just enough for me to act on what I've been wanting to do from nearly the moment I first saw you."

Oh. Well, that certainly _did_ set your mind at ease. You let yourself relax. 

"I didn't know _what_ to think the moment I first saw you," you confessed, a wistful smile playing on your lips, "I guess I thought you were weird, but in a fun way." This statement earned you a chuckle from the poet before you continued, "Now, when I first _saw_ you... I'm not sure I can even put it into words. For a long time after the Qliphoth, I just kept hoping _he'd_ come back to me somehow. I knew it was impossible, that he was gone... transmuted into somebody I didn't know. But when I saw your face, I guess that secret wish I thought I had packed away for good came rushing back."

He took your hand within his, strumming the pad of his thumb across the peaks and vales of your knuckles.

"'This living hand, now warm and capable  
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold  
And in the icy silence of the tomb,  
So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights  
That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood,  
So in my veins red life might stream again,  
And thou be conscience-calm'd. See, here it is—  
I hold it towards you,'" Vigna intoned the poem with practiced eloquence, his voice smooth like aural satin. 

You placed your free hand upon the hand that so tenderly held your other, enthralled by the smoothness of his skin. Against all the set odds and probabilities within the cosmos, he was returned to you just as you were to him. 

"I don't know how I didn't notice sooner," you felt your stomach clench as you spoke. He had been right under your nose for so long. You were once convinced you would recognize him anywhere, even by his voice alone.

"Don't torment yourself," his reproof of your words were as mild as the man himself, "time alters all and I am no... _exception_ to that. My posture, stride, my... _disposition_... and even the cadence of my voice have all changed to some extent from what you would remember. Besides, Vergil was right there with you... why would you be looking elsewhere?"

Vigna was right and it didn't trouble you at all to concede that was the case. What _did_ bring you some disquiet was the next thought that entered your head.

"If things had gone differently, let's say I never confronted you about Keats or..." you trailed off for a second, a tad reluctant to bring this next point up, "if Vergil and I had eventually decided to become a couple; would you have said anything to me? About who you are, I mean?"

He said nothing but his eyes conveyed all— he wouldn't have. 

There is a phenomenon that occurs at sunset called a sub-duct flash; under just the right atmospheric conditions if an observer happens to be at the right place at the right time, a flash of green light can be witnessed as the sun sinks below the horizon. It's rare; so rare, in fact, that even if you _think_ you've seen it it's more likely you have only seen a mirage that mimics the effect. Vigna's presence in your life was nothing short of this phenomenon and looking into his eyes, you vowed to never take that brilliance of green for granted. Your lips crashed against the pink swell of Vigna's, an action that he welcomed with an eager acceptance. 

When you pulled back, you noticed for the first time the red marks that bloomed under Vigna's jaw and along his neck. 

"I, uh, sorta gave you some hickies. Sorry," you felt embarrassed at just how carried away you had gotten last night.

Vigna touched his neck, a thoughtful smile creeping across his lips as though he were recounting the event that left the marks there. His eyes trained on you once more, his smile turning impish.

"No need for apologies," his voice was like a purr, "I enjoyed recieving them... perhaps even more than you did giving them."

It took a lot of restraint not to variegate him in more.

****************

The morning proceeded in an unremarkable fashion. First, you and Vigna took turns in Griffon and Shadow's shower. Before taking your turn in the bathroom you were sure to fish the charger out of your bag and plug your phone in at long last. It was hard to say what sort of damage had been done to the device, but it was high time to find out. You needed to get in touch with your friends if only to get (deservedly) chewed out. Upon plugging it in one thing was immediately obvious; your phone certainly wasn't going to be charged any time soon if it even worked at all.

With your hygienic needs taken care of your group converged in the kitchen, minus Phantom who opted to occupy one of the recliners in the living room rather than jam himself in the small kitchen with the rest of you. It hardly made any difference— the kitchen was merely an extension of the living room anyway. Simply being in a kitchen seemed to awaken your appetite and you soon found your hunger had become something you could no longer ignore. When you brought this up, Griffon urged you to look in the refrigerator.

"Oh, and bring something for me, will ya?"

You opened the fridge only to find it more bare than the apartment it occupied. Only a medium sized container sat inside, pushed to the far reaches of the top shelf. You pulled it towards you, the clear lid revealing it was filled to the brim with offal. 

"Oops... guess I need to go to the store," Griffon let out an uncomfortable squawk, "Oh, I know! Check the cabinet! But, uh, I'll take that!"

Griffon flitted from his perch on the back of one of the chairs to the floor, his peculiar eyes of liquid gold looking up at you expectantly. You looked over at Shadow who was laying contently upon a rug in front of the sink as you sat the plastic tub on the floor in front of Griffon, wondering what the elegant creature would eat.

"Don't worry, Kitty doesn't need to eat— we'd probably be in trouble if that were the case! Heheh!" Griffon continued to laugh a bit after answering your unspoken question. Shadow's tail thumped in annoyance at the raptor's words but looking at the big cat's large frame and powerful musculature you could see the truth in what Griffon had said; Shadow would likely require pounds and pounds of flesh if they did eat.

While Griffon was busy guzzling down the contents of his meal, Vigna looked through the demons' cabinets, finding only a single box of cereal. He looked at you with a slight shrug as he sat down at the table and ate some straight from the box. You took the vacant seat beside him and he tilted the box towards you in an offering you were too hungry to pass up. Sitting in a small apartment crowded with demons while eating fistfuls of dry cereal probably wasn't most people's image of idyllic, but that's how it felt to you. From the soft way he chuckled when your eyes met between munches, you got the feeling Vigna was thinking much the same. 

"Two of you feeling cozy?" Griffon peered up at the pair of you through eyes so narrowed they looked like yellow slits, "Oh ho! What's this I see?" The avian demon was suddenly on the back of Vigna's chair, craning his head around to scrutinize the dark haired man's neck. Although Vigna was wearing his usual attire, the bundled fabric of his cowl didn't reach high enough to adequately cover the love mark closest to his jawline. "I wonder how _that_ got there? Heheheh!"

"____? Shall we... demonstrate?" 

Vigna's response caught you so off guard you choked on your cereal. Tears welled in your eyes as you sputtered out a series of noises that were both coughs and laughs. Vigna rubbed your back, smiling despite an obvious effort not to. You didn't hold it against him—how could you? It _was_ pretty funny. From across the room you heard Phantom heave a massive sigh.

"Griffon, I know you're as eager as ever to play mother hen but don't we have a _ton_ of things to discuss? Shit, maybe _you_ don't have anything else to do but I'd rather not spend my entire day crammed inside this miserable pit you call a home."

"I see you're still as charming as ever." Griffon's tone was sulkly as he returned to his original perch atop the chair opposite Vigna. While unceremoniously frank, Phantom wasn't wrong. If you were all going to work as a team everyone needed to be on the same page.

***************

Talking is what your group needed to do, so talking is precisely what you did. The palaver went on and on, eating away the morning and biting into the afternoon. Griffon elaborated on the hardships he and Shadow faced while living in the wild and how humans— whether they meant well or ill— were a particular blight on Shadow's life. Hunters and trappers were practically frothing at the mouth at the rumors of the large cat and concerned good samaritans were relentless in their pursuit of Shadow as well. Even if the pair had lacked any regard for human life, simply attacking or killing their pursuers would have only served to make matters worse. It eventually became too much for them to deal with and they decided that living amongst humans would probably be their best bet. Assimilation came rather easily to Griffon but Shadow not only had a major barrier to overcome when it came to communication but they also struggled in the beginning to maintain a convincing human form. So for a time, all of the financial responsibility fell on Griffon. The avian demon never forgot his parting words to his former master and figured Grue's Cellar would be the perfect place to earn money and honor his promise.

"I practically begged to work there, " Griffon recalled, "luckily those girls have hearts of gold!"

Soon, they had a place to call home and once Shadow learned to properly sustain a human form, everything else just clicked into place. It was Griffon's idea for the two of them to learn sign language and finding free classes was easy enough. In addition, Shadow did tons of people watching which is how they learned to play music. When it came right down to it, mimicry was the most useful skill in Shadow's arsenal both on and off the battlefield. A notice posted on 'The Riff Tide's' door stated they were looking for a saxophone player so Shadow pounced on the opportunity. It was honestly the perfect place for Shadow; not only did it fulfill Shadow's need to operate as a unit while still allowing minimal social interaction, but one didn't need a voice to play music— the sax did all the speaking for them.

With some urging from Vigna you told told the group of your escape from Redgrave and how you spent the following two years knowing that Vergil had reformed but not knowing if you'd ever see him again. You told them of how Jeffrey put you in touch with Nero and the events that led up to you becoming his pupil. You couldn't be certain of how well they would deal with the initial weirdness but you thought once they got over that hump Jeffrey and Nero would both be happy to see the two demons again, as would Nico although she'd never admit it forthrightly.

"Girlie, you've come quite a ways. Kinda choked me up when I was watchin' you fight; I'm proud of you," Griffon turned his head towards your familiar, "You too, you prickly bastard! You work pretty well with _____, hard to believe you're the same guy who was willing to just die rather than lift a leg to help V!"

"I'll have you know that I _apologized_ for that, there's just nobody left to remember that I did," Phantom shrugged his front legs curtly.

"Oh-ho! Okay, guess I'll take your word for it then!"

Shadow let out a low grow that clearly expressed their displeasure. 

"Bah! The cat is right; now is not the time. Let us move on..." Phantom waved one of this legs as though he were fanning away smoke. You shook your head— those three squabbled precisely like siblings and you supposed that it was befitting of the truth.

When it came time for Vigna to speak, although you knew his tale as intimately as another person possibly could you still listened with a vested interest, eager to hear how faithfully his words would reflect his own hardships. Vigna never minced words or sanitized his suffering when he recounted his aimless wanderings where stopping would have meant death. He spoke of the uncertainties of his own existence with such passionate nuance you couldn't help the tears that streamed down your cheeks. He recounted with equal animation his various triumphs; meeting Pia whom he spoke of with such fondness there could be no question of her importance to the poet, becoming Pia's apprentice and having Machiavelli's knowledge passed down to him, and eventually coming to grips with his own individuality and the name of Vigna being bequeathed to him.

"Vigna, huh?" Griffon cocked his head thoughtfully to the side, "It suits ya, kid! Gotta say, I like the sound of this master of yours— any chance we could meet her someday?"

"I'm afraid that's not likely. Pia is... it's very likely she's dead."

Vigna wrapped up his tale by explaining how Pia left to confront Thiriel and never returned and how he set forth to learn about her fate, helping Vergil and Dante along the way. When speaking to the twin demons Somnus and Mors, Vigna learned that the popular gossip was that Thiriel had killed Pia before leaving the demon realm. Although he was devastated, he was determined to pursue Thiriel— vengeance demanded it. 

"'I must choose between despair and Energy— I choose the latter.' Pia helped me reaffirm my reason for being, I couldn't just wither away."

It turned out that Mors was in possession of a shard of Yamato and handed it over to Vigna.

"He hadn't known what it was capable of until Thiriel had used a similar piece to leave the underworld," Vigna explained, "I made my way back to the Oracle's cave, but by then Vergil and Dante were gone. So, I went alone."

The conclusion of Vigna's personal tale was a perfect segue to the heart of the matter: Thiriel and his so-called Sons of Urizen. You and Vigna spoke in turn of the demon and his ridiculous scheme and of the human lives he had already secretly snuffed out in order to fulfill it.

"Man! I have never met the guy but I already hate him!" Griffon flapped his wings in indignation as he spoke, "He probably thinks he's some kinda Revolutionary—sure! A revolutionary creep! I'm all in, V! Let's make a contract!"

Vigna looked genuinely taken aback.

"You needn't take such measures to help..."

"Kid, we've been over this before haven't we? We fight better with you takin' the reigns, Vigna, and you know that works better if we're linked!" Griffon flew over and perched on the back of Vigna's chair once more, "if that doesn't convince you let me remind you of this: we're mortal now— flesh and freakin' blood. If we fight on our we'll get injured, no question! Worse, we could _die_! Bound to you we are practically invincible! Can we get hurt? Sure! But stalemate's a whole lot better than bleedin' out! There _are_ perks to this deal otherwise no regular demon would ever do this kinda thing!"

Vigna looked to his feathered companion, the corner of his mouth turned slightly downward. He folded his hands in his lap and looked at them for a time, his darkened locks falling over his face. 

"And what of you, Shadow?" Vigna brushed his hair back as his eyes met with the panther's.

Shadow rose from their spot on the floor and stood before the apprentice, their eyes two flaring garnets. In one quick gesture Shadow's massive paws were upon Vigna's lap, bracing the magnificent creature as they bunted their face against Vigna's. That one gesture said it all.

"If this is what you both want then I shall accept your contract." 

At Vigna's words both of the demons dematerialized, broken into a dark haze that invaded Vigna's body. He stiffened, his body going rigid as he leaned over the table. .

"You good?" You reached over and touched one of his hands, freshly coiled with his familiar tattoos. Although his clothes concealed the majority of his body, you knew his entire torso was likely patterned once again with the dark whorls that signified his demonic bonds.

"Presently," his brows raised slightly before flashing you a serious case of bedroom eyes. 

From across the room you heard Phantom loudly clear his throat in a kind reminder that the two of you weren't alone and Vigna laughed. 

"Want to get something to eat?"

You nodded with gusto; dry ceral could only tide you over for so long.

"Absolutely."

*****************

Walking side by side in the late autumn chill, Vigna's attire attracted very little attention save for the occasional sideward glance at his mask. By sheer happenstance the two of you stumbled upon a small street festival and mutually decided to lose yourselves amongst the crowd gathered there. Stalls and food trucks littered the streets with vendors selling every sort of confectionery or street food you could imagine and Vigna was happy to treat you to your heart's desire. Upon a small stage a magician gave an entertaining performance as you stood and watched. While the man was interesting to watch, his tricks provided you with little sense of wonder or splendor like they would have in the past. Considering all that you have seen and all that your life currently entailed, who could blame you for feeling a bit jaded?

"I don't think this man's show is quite Vegas ready," Vigna leaned in and spoke softly into your ear, "unlike ours."

You looked at him and fought the urge to laugh aloud. You _did_ say something to that effect years ago. 

"I not so sure about that now, V. Our show stopper's a little different these days," you focused your gaze on Vigna's hood as you thought about the dark locks it concealed, "not quite as visually compelling."

"Hmm... I stand corrected," he chuckled a bit before continuing, "I'm feeling rather parched, would you like something to drink?"

"Sure."

"I'll be right back," Vigna smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before disappearing into the crowd.

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you tried to ignore the growing sense of unease that pooled in your stomach at Vigna's absence. Somehow, every time you saw him felt like it would be the last, like he was simply something you dreamed up or a shade fixing to slip away into the shadows forever. It was an absurd hang up, you were aware, and certainly one you would have to overcome if—

"_______?" The voice that shook you from your thoughts was the last person you were expecting.

"Vergil?!" Your mouth felt suddenly felt extremely dry.

"Are you... are you doing well?" His fingers swept through his pallid hair with a certain clumsiness that was unrepresentative of the normally genteel man.

"I am. And you?"

"I'm quite well," he straightened his already immaculate jacket as he spoke, not quite meeting your eye. Uncomfortable silence fell between the two of you and although the conversation lulled, the air was heavy with all the questions left unvoiced. Vergil cleared his throat and faced you, discomposure flickering behind those steely eyes. 

"And your spider? I trust he is in good health?"

"Oh, Phantom? He's doing _great_ ," relieved just to be talking you responded with more enthusiasm than you felt, "He's as prickly as ever, making sure to let me know he thinks I'm an idiot." 

You couldn't be sure but you thought Vergil looked pleased at your words— perhaps a bit _too_ pleased. Fair enough.

"Ah, Vergil," the voice belonged to Vigna who had returned at long last, "I had no idea you would show up so I'm afraid I'm a drink short." He handed you a steaming cup of warm cider before continuing his address to Vergil, "I wouldn't mind giving you mine, if you'd like?"

Vigna held out his cup in offering but Vergil's eyes were fixed elsewhere as he scowled in obvious distaste. You felt mortified realizing he had _definitely_ noticed the very same love bite that had caught Griffon's attention.

"I would never dream of just swooping in and taking what is yours," Vergil's jaw twitched after the caustic remark left his lips. 

Vigna rescinded his outstretched hand and his posture visibly slackened in flippant provocation towards his alter ego. He brought his index finger to his chin and tilted his head back in a pensive gesture. 

"Hmm... swooping _is_ pretty bad; although, I would argue that it's really neither mine _or_ yours... wouldn't you agree?"

If it wasn't already abundantly clear they weren't actually talking about cider then the heavy way Vergil's chest heaved as he struggled to keep his anger at bay really spelled it out for you. 

"'The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow,'" Vergil was postively seething. 

Vigna gulped down his drink, crushed the cup in his hand and tossed it in a nearby garbage bin.

"You have my sympathies, Vergil," Vigna's voice was colder than the day's frigid air, "Afterall, 'there is not a fiercer hell than the failure in a great object.'"

In a flash, Vergil snatched Vigna by the ruff of his cowl and lifted him off the ground, startling the people nearby.

"Scum!" Vergil spat, his blue eyes teeming with ire.

You had to do something because you were pretty certain things were about to devolve into a literal poetry slam. 

"Vergil, Vigna! Come on, this is stupid!" you pleaded. 

Still in Vergil's clutches, Vigna's shoulders began to shake as he pealed out in a bout of spiteful laughter. Vergil's fist wound back—

"All right boys, break it up!" Like a bolt from the blue Dante appeared, effortlessly deflecting Vergil's fist. You were so happy at the younger twin's timely intervention you could have kissed him— because _that_ wouldn't have made things any worse or anything.

"Keep out of this, Dante," Vergil snarled through gnashed teeth, "this doesn't concern you!"

"Well, maybe so... but I think there's been enough sibling rivalry in this family," the red coated hunter flashed Vigna a rakish grin, "isn't that right... _half_ -bro?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I was paraphrasing Mr. Darcy. Lol Also Alistair from Dragon Age for... reasons. Idek


	8. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I promise the next chapter will be out soon and hopefully be less boring. Lol

"I still don't believe it!"

Vergil paced the wooden floors of the Devil May Cry office in an extremely overstrung manner, his boots clomping noisily with each agitated step. After Dante's timely intervention out in the streets, the men agreed that any further conversation should be held in private— hell, it was the _only_ thing they had agreed on _before_ or _since_ coming to the office. You sat beside Vigna on Dante's worn leather sofa, your hands tucked between your thighs as you bounced your leg in a nervous jig. Vigna seemed as relaxed as ever, his face cool and collected. He had long since tucked away his mask after being compelled into relaying his tale to the Sparda twins. Griffon laughed from his perch on the stair's railing before fluttering down and landing on Vergil's shoulder.

"Don't believe it or don't _want_ to believe it?" Griffon crowed. 

Vergil remained silent but Dante chuckled from his seat behind his desk. Vergil spun on his heel to face his twin, the turn so abrupt that it startled a squawking Griffon away.

"What exactly do you find so amusing about _any_ of this, Dante?" Vergil's tone was measured but you could hear the brittleness in his voice.

"Plenty," Dante answered as he propped his feet up on his desk and leaned back in his chair, "and although you can't see it now, I'd wager you'll see the humor in it all eventually. Hell, this guy is living proof that you have a better sense of humor than you let on!" 

"Hardly," both Vigna and Vergil scoffed. Vergil turned his head back to offer a quick scowl to his alter ego before returning his attention back to his younger twin.

"So, we're supposed to just accept all of this and let ______ continue gallivanting around with _that_ _man_?"

"Yes," you kept your answer short and sweet although you weren't exactly pleased with Vergil's choice of words. Dante shrugged.

"You heard the lady."

Vergil turned to you, his face a placid mask of indifference. 

"I need some air."

With that simple declaration Vergil crossed the room and left the building, the door closing behind him with a clattering bang. You sighed. Everything had gone as well as you could have realistically hoped for but that didn't make the whole matter any less odious. 

"For the record, we haven't been just 'gallivanting' around," Vergil's words had stung and you felt the need to clarify the situation to his younger twin, "the Sons haven't been quite as benevolent towards humans as they pretend. In a cabin near that abandoned house, we found bodies— people _they_ killed."

"They were drained of blood and this symbol was drawn on the wall," Vigna added as he stood and handed his notebook over to Dante. The older devil hunter scratched his stubble as he studied the younger man's sketch. Dante regrounded the front legs of his chair as he dropped his own off the desk in front of him and sighed.

"Can't say I'm surprised, all the more reason to stop these wack-jobs. As for this," Dante tapped the paper in front of him,"I can't make heads or tails of it but Trish might know something. Mind if I keep it?" 

"If you so wish," came Vigna's reply.

Without a second thought, Dante ripped the page from Vigna's journal. After looking at the newly revealed page, Dante uttered a singular chuckle in amusement before closing the book and handing it back to its owner. 

"Where is Trish anyways?" you wondered. Although this was technically Dante's office, you doubted Trish or Lady would just leave the place now that Dante had returned, especially when Dante and Vergil were so indebted to the women. 

"She's off on a gig, a paying one."

"Imagine that," you grinned.

"She has much better business sense than me, that's for sure," Dante continued, "but she was still good enough to stop by Aporia and tell me about the weirdest call she got this morning: a young lady asking for Tony Redgrave. Said she got the number from his half-brother, V, and a certain woman that happened to be accompanying him."

"Ah, well, that explains a few things," you laughed as you stood from your seat on the sofa and stretched, "but something tells me you might have kept a few details from Vergil."

Dante flashed a lopsided grin before propping his arm up on his desk and resting his face upon his upturned fist.

"Maybe." 

With nothing more left to be said, Griffon fluttered from the staircase railing and alighted onto Vigna's outstretched arm. 

"Well, see you 'round, Dante," the raptor began, "and don't worry— I'm not _too_ upset that you technically killed me!"

After those parting words, Griffon resumed his place within the tattoos that snaked Vigna's skin.

"Let's be sure to... keep in touch," Vigna lilted, "Send Vergil my regards."

"Sure thing."

"Later, you. Be nice to Vergil," you chided your very adult friend as though he were a child.

"Hey, I'm always nice to Vergil," the red coated hunter professed. You laughed and leaned over his desk. "Also," you added in a more serious manner, "I can't tell you what to do but I think you should get a hold of Tiki and Nesty. They reached out to you afterall."

"Oh, sure thing, babe. I'll get right on that, but only if you give me a kiss..."

Oh, Dante. There he was again, back to using his same old deflections and looking smugly satisfied he had once again thwarted you. Well, not this time. You leaned in and gave the half-devil the quickest of pecks right on the lips. Dante's eyes widened before his expression quickly settled into one of morose defeat. You shot him a smile that hopefully wasn't too blusterous, rapped your fist on his desk and turned to leave alongside Vigna.

As you opened the door you were greeted by the sight of Vergil leaning against the wall. You offered an awkward wave as you walked by and he nodded curtly in return before making his way back inside. It hurt, there was no denying it, but you knew the pain ran deeper still for Vergil. Was it naive to hope for a proper reconciliation between you? Was it selfish to dream that one day you may even be friends? It was safe to say the ball was in Vergil's court and you would allot him all the time he needed. 

When you rounded the corner and were out of sight of the Devil May Cry office, Vigna suddenly lifted you up and spun around before setting you back on your feet. 

"What was that for?" you managed to ask between bursts of giddy laughter.

"For besting Dante at his own game," Vigna's lips stretched into a satisfied smirk, "the look on his face was quite... _gratifying_. I suppose there are some things about me that I cannot change..." 

You bit back a grin as you clutched his arm.

"It _was_ pretty satisfying to call his bluff," you admitted, "you have no idea how much he's teased me!"

Vigna cocked a brow at you.

"I could say the same thing."

*****************  
Upon returning to the apartment, your first order of business was to check in on your phone, hoping that it was still functional. The screen showed that it was fully charged so you were off to a promising start. You powered it on and were greeted with several missed call notifications and a couple of messages but nothing too crazy. You breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed your friends were concerned but thankfully not overwrought with worry. You dialed the number for Time and Temperature in order to test your phone out before calling your friends— the last thing you needed was a poor quality phone call to further confuse and distress them. Everthing seemed to be in working order. With no excuses left, you nervously called Nico's car phone and got an answer on the second ring.

"Yellow?"

"Nico, we've been over this," you heard Nero confront the weaponsmith in exasperation, "if you're gonna answer, do it right!"

"Yeah, yeah," Nico drawled before continuing, "Devil May Cry, whatcha need?"

"Hey, Nico, it's me..."

"_______? Shit, we've been tryin' to reach yer ass for days now! How's it goin'?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I went through a portal and thought my phone was a goner."

"Oh? Is _that_ what she's sorry for? Give me a break," You could hear Nero scoff in displeasure, his phrase punctuated with the slamming of what you recognized as the garage door. 

"How mad is he?" you asked with a wince.

"Ya heard that, huh?" Nico sounded slightly apologetic, "Well, no sense in sugarcoatin' it: he's been pretty damn mad. When we first realized ya left, he cussed up a storm— and this was right in front of Kyrie!"

Oh, wow. That _was_ a big deal.

"But, I think he's been real worried and sad," Nico continued, "You know how he is."

You did, which made you feel even more like a colossal jerk. You knew he had some abandonment issues and was likely taking your sudden departure personally. 

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad are _you_?" You ventured sheepishly.

"Oh, I'm an eleven fer sure," came her pointed remark.

Your mind wrestled with your mouth as you tried to think of something to say.

"Just fuckin' with ya! C'mon!" she proceeded to laugh boisterously, "I've been a little worried about ya, Kyrie has been too, but we know you can take care of yourself! And, ya know, I may not be all _sensitive_ like you and Nero but I'm pretty damn good at readin' a room. I could tell somethin' was off between you and Vergil. Usually if you're fuckin' someone you don't make it a point to not look at 'em."

Not the most elegant way of putting it, but she definitely wasn't wrong.

"So who's this guy you ran off with anyways? Heard he fixed one of Lady's guns." 

Knowing the woman all too well, you smiled.

"I'll explain everything soon enough," you promised, "His name is Vigna and don't worry, he's not in competition with you."

"Oh, g-good! I see her sometimes — fer the guns, ya know? But I'm m-more concerned for my uncle, Rock, Lady's one of his regulars. I wouldn't want to lose her— her b-business that is! For him!" 

You bit back some laughter that threatened to spill from your lips not wishing to tease her— not too much anyways.

"Lady's all yours," you assured, "Or her guns. Whichever."

"Why you! I-I'm hangin' up now! Bye!" 

Finally off the line, you allowed yourself to chuckle. Nico was too cute sometimes.

******************

As evening rolled around, you and Vigna found yourselves sat once again at Griffon and Shadow's small kitchen table. After your earlier phone call with Nico, you had decided to touch base with Jeffrey as well. The call with the journalist had been as pleasant as ever but he unfortunately had nothing new to report regarding the Sons.

In the next room your familiars gathered around the television, the soft glow from the set the only source of light in the swiftly encroaching darkness. Griffon watching a TV show seemed perfectly on brand but seeing Shadow enjoy such a pastime was endearingly strange. At first, Phantom sat and complained about whatever it was they were watching but it was pretty telling that he never left. You looked at Vigna and grinned.

"I think we might be bad parents."

"I'm sure it's educational." Not a second after Vigna answered, a man dressed as both a doctor and a vampire appeared on screen. "For _them_ at least," he hastily added. You suddenly envisioned Griffon watching 'Cocktail' or episodes of 'Cheers' in order to learn how to be a bartender and suppressed a laugh. Jokes aside, there was at least a little merit to what Vigna said. Not only were they demons, they were technically pieces of Vergil— it was safe to say they were probably a little bit out of touch.

"Care to join me somewhere more... private?" Vigna's expression was hard to read through the gloom.

"Yeah, of course." You were pleased you managed to sound so calm despite your heart leaping to your throat.

The two of you went to the bedroom and if any of your bestial companions happened to notice they gave no indication. Vigna clicked on the shaded lamp that stood in the corner of the room and you shut the door behind you. In truth, the lamp offered very little light but it was a marked improvement over the flickering dimness in the kitchen. Vigna kicked off his boots and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking as he ran his fingers almost nervously through his hair. You took off your boots and joined him. He stared at his lap for a time and then, with some effort, managed to look you in the eye.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier today. I wasn't myself... or maybe I was _too much_ of myself," Vigna sighed, doubt clouding his normally bright eyes, "I don't want to be that person anymore— controlled by insecurity and trifling jealousy but still... 'my heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk.'"

You took his hand and traced the faded silver lines that graced it.

"It's not unreasonable to feel jealous sometimes, Vigna. In fact, I think you showed considerable restraint given the circumstances. I'm actually really grateful for the way you stood up for me. Normally, I wouldn't have hesitated to challenge some of the more questionable things that were leaving Vergil's mouth but... I figured I would let him vent," you gave Vigna's hand a gentle squeeze before continuing, " As maddening as he can be at times, I have a fondness for him that I don't think will ever be erased. I care about him."

Vigna laced his fingers with yours and smiled a smile so delicate you feared its softness would break you. 

"Would you believe that I feel the same way about him? Father, brother... self; he is all of those things to me while being none of them at all and yet... I love him thusly." 

"I think that makes perfect sense if that's how you feel. I mean, it's not like there's any guidebooks for your situation."

Vigna chuckled softly.

"True enough."

He looked at you for a time and you were relieved to see the light had return to his eyes. 

"By the way, I... _got_ you something earlier. I meant to give it to you then but..." He gave a small shrug as he rummaged the intended item from his pocket. It was a thin bangle made up of lacy, golden metalwork and inlaid with violet red almandine settings. 

"It's not much but I hope you'll like it all the same," the dark haired man continued, looking slightly flustered as he handed you the bracelet. 

You slipped it on, mindfully taking in all the intricate details. Its fit was loose enough to be comfortable but thankfully not to the point it would impede your fighting in any way. The bangle was a tasteful piece that denoted Vigna's own refined preferences. 

"It's gorgeous, Vigna," you said at last, "I love it, thank you." You threw your arms around him in a loving embrace and after a moment's hesitation he held you as well, his face gently sidling against yours. You never felt so precious as you did entwined in the summoner's arms, hearts beating together as though begging to collide. 

"'We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.'" 

You could feel every word that left Vigna's lips and, as close as you were, there was no hiding the pleasant shivers they elicited from you this time. Vigna nuzzled his nose against yours before brushing his lips against your own in the faintest of touches. You touched his face, your fingers dipping along the hollows of his cheeks and downwards to trace the plush fullness of his lips. He blessed your wandering fingertips with a kiss and you found yourself entranced by the half-lidded viridity of his eyes. You kissed him and when he parted his lips in invitation you deepened it, all too happy to partake in the sweet ambrosia of his mouth. You burrowed your hands in the dark tangle of his hair and bestrode his lap, the weight of your passion pushing the man flat against the mattress. When you pulled back from your flurry of kisses, Vigna's cheeks were florid and the rise and fall of his chest restless with his quickened breaths. You leaned in and whsipered in his ear.

"Checkmate."

At your word, the malleable man beneath you that had been so yielding to your advances seemed to change at once, his expression shifting to something more wicked and prowling. 

"Are you sure about that?"

Before you could rightfully process what was happening you found yourself beneath the poet, arms pinned above your head. You knew that pinning was a move in chess, but you were pretty sure it was nothing like this. You tried to think of some clever witticism to throw back at him but were entirely lost in the heady feeling his ensarement of you brought forth.

"The queen can't put the king in checkmate," his tone was unexpectedly sweet as he planted a loving kiss on your forehead and rolled off of you. A part of you was slightly disappointed that was as far as Vigna planned to go, but another much more rational part was contented to take your time and rediscover the poet slowly. At least there was no pressing time constraint this time around...

Right?

***************

The next day found you standing in the kitchen, brow creased in slack jawed vexation. After oversleeping and getting a late start to your day it was high time for lunch. Thinking you would scope out the offerings of Griffon and Shadow's kitchen before heading to the store, you scoured every cabinet and drawer only to find there wasn't a single pan, dish, or eating utensil to be found. Taking into consideration the pairs dietary needs (or lack thereof) you guessed it wasn't too surprising. But still, to live this way for _two years_? Griffon and Shadow really were out of their element. You sighed wearily. Take-out it was then. 

After placing an order, you, Vigna and your familiars gathered in waiting in the small kitchen, much like the day before. 

"So, what's the plan?" Griffon inquired, "We got one yet? I know ol' Shaddy and I are dyin' to get back in the ring!"

"We're still... _uncertain_ of the Sons' whereabouts." At Vigna's words, the demonic raptor sagged in disappointment but thankfully you remembered a possible lead.

"It's true that we don't know where they are," you began, tracing idle patterns with your fingertips on the table in front of you, "but I think I may have an idea of where we should look next. Before we checked out that abandoned house, Dante, Vergil, and I took on a job for a farmer that turned out to be the work of the Sons. There may be something nearby that farm just like the cabin."

"It sounds worth investigating," Vigna assented, "a sweep of the general area shouldn't prove too difficult."

"Oh, hell yeah!" Griffon's chest puffed out and his feathers ruffled in excitement, "The gang's back together and soon we're gonna be kickin' ass and takin' names— ain't that right, V?"

"With any luck." A small smirk played over Vigna's lips. 

A knock came at the door, the sound a near-defeatening boom echoing within the empty walls of the apartment. You and Vigna shared the same quizzical look from across the table.

"If that's the food, then that was awfully quick," your words were seasoned with a heavy fixing of doubt; it had scarcely been ten minutes since you got off the phone. Vigna left his chair and took it upon himself to answer the door.

"Ah, to what do we owe the pleasure? It seems quite... _unlike_ you to drop in to visit."

"It does, doesn't it?" The sighing tone that answered Vigna back was unquestionably Dante, "So, Mr. Poetry, you gonna invite me in or what?"

Vigna stepped aside while still holding the door ajar.

"By all means."

Dante stepped over the threshold, his blue eyes instantly drawn to your trio of demons.

"Well, you don't see that every day," he commented with a chuckle as he folded his arms against his chest. 

"Indeed," Vigna hummed his agreement, "A den— of demons, no less."

Griffon guffawed and Phantom groaned while Dante offered the conjurer a vacant stare in exchange for his decidedly dorky turn of phrase. Taking advantage of the break in the conversation, you stood and addressed the older devil hunter.

"Is everything all right, Dante?"

"Yeah, things are fine," he insisted, "but it turns out Trish is gonna be off on that gig hers for a while— longer than Vergil is willing to stick around here for— so I thought I'd drop in to tell you we're headed back to his place."

"Oh. Well, we won't be staying here much longer either," you informed him with a small frown, "I wish we had a way to contact each other."

"You could always have your carrier pigeon send a message," Dante gestured to Griffon with a wry grin.

"Well, I've never!" Griffon cawwed as he flapped his wings in indignation, "I could and HAVE eaten pigeons for breakfast thank you very much! Chickens too for that matter!"

Dante chuckled.

"Okay, then I guess _this_ will have to do instead." He pulled out a small, sliver flip phone and tossed it suddenly your way. Mercifully, your fumbling fingers managed to catch it.

"Put your number in there, I have no idea how those things work," Dante looked away as he spoke and you thought you noticed the tiniest hint of embarrassment showing through the cracks of his easy-going air. You smiled a bit and did as the hunter asked. 

"Here!" 

You tossed the device back and the half-devil caught it effortlessly. 

"Catch you around," Dante gave you a nod and motioned his head towards the familiars, "might want to look into an exterminator for your pest problem."

"Hah! Aren't _you_ the expert at that?" Griffon challenged.

"Yeah but lucky for you, I'm off the clock."

With that, Dante made to leave only to open the door to your very flustered pizza delivery driver, her fist raised in preparation to knock. Dante shot her a sly smile before raising the lid of pizza box and grabbing himself a slice. He turned towards Vigna, lifting his triangular share in an appreciative gesture.

"Thanks for the pizza, brother!"

Deftly, he was off, leaving only the confused delivery woman in his wake. She looked to the demons, then to Vigna, and then finally to you.

"Umm... 21.78?" she practically squeaked. You strode over with a smile both friendly and apologetic and paid for the food. You made sure to tip— well. She blurted out some pleasantries before hastily retreating to her car. The moment you shut the door both Griffon _and_ Phantom erupted into a fit of raucous laughter. 

"That puny mortal was quaking in fear!" Phantom boomed between laughs. 

"Practically pissin' her pants!" Griffon was cackling so hard you thought he might keel over. Shadow's ears folded over as they studied their peers with a steady and reproachful gaze; you were relieved that at least one of them had some sense. Wordlessly, Vigna took the pizza from your hands making sure to steal a kiss in the process. He looked so incandescently happy that you wished you could freeze time itself.

You'd have to talk to Nico about that.


	9. Chapter 18

After an early morning trip to the store for much needed essentials your group was ready to venture forth, the day still young and the bustle of the city virtually nonexistent. You wondered how you were going to get to your destination; your car was still in Aporia and there was no reliable public transportation around these parts. You had nothing against walking but you felt anxious to pick up the Sons' trail. When you looked to Vigna for direction he raised a brow at you.

"Do you trust me?"

You matched his stare with a dry look.

"Of course I do, V."

"Then come here and hold on," he beckoned you over and met you with outstretched arms, allowing you wrap your own around his trim waist.

"Tighter," he instructed, pulling you flush against him. You did as you were bidden and a few moments later a dark formation of shadow clouded under your feet. Before you had any time to think you were being propelled foward, the sensation one of perpetually slipping on ice at a terrifying speed. You squinted your eyes shut, wind whipping wildly through your hair, and burrowed your face against the poet's chest as you tried not to scream out— _tried_ being the tentative word.

*************

You were able to travel a fair distance in an impressively short amount of time before finally coming to a stop. When you pulled yourself away from your lover, you promptly stumbled, your head spinning and your legs clumsy from temporary mal de débarquement. Vigna gathered you to him once more and gently stroked your hair until your condition improved. The fragments of umbra continued to move along the ground without the pair of you until it shifted and reshaped into Shadow; hardly a shocker, you had seen V dodge many different enemies in a similar fashion with the big cat's assistance. The feline trotted over and nudged your hand, their wet nose and the springy floss of their whiskers ticklish against your skin. You gave the mighty beast a series of strokes from the back of their head and along the strong curve of their neck earning you a rumbling purr of contentment.

"Thank you for the lift, Shadow. I'm doing better now."

Satisfied with both your answer and your attentions, Shadow resumed their place within V's tattoos.

"You'll get used to it," Vigna assured and you flashed him a wan, half-hearted smile.

"'I envy your optimism,'" came your sardonic response. He then bopped you on the head with his copy of Keats. 

You supposed deserved it.

****************

After setting up camp within a birchen grove, you were free at last to start your exploration. You figured that the best place to begin would be with a visit to your old client, the farmer. If anything had been amiss since your last job, perhaps he would have taken note of it. 

It felt strange to be going back to the farmhouse, and as you made your way up the winding lane that led to the home you mused how even stranger it was to be returning with Vigna and his familiars given the nature of the hallucination you experienced the last time you were there. You stood at the front door with Vigna opting to stand a few paces behind you. You drew in a deep breath, poised your fist and knocked. The farmer answered the door and a look of instant recognition passed over his features when he saw your face.

"Oh, hey! It's you again," the farmer craned his neck left and right as he looked around, "there isn't anymore, eh, _trouble_ is there?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that," you flashed a rueful smile, "notice anything strange lately? Anything off?"

"Things have been pretty quiet since your last visit," the farmer scratched his head, his brow furrowing in a ruminative expression, "although maybe _too_ quiet now that I think about it. There's a small community of rural folk who live a few miles west of here. Now, they like to keep to themselves so I don't really have any personal interactions with them in my day to day life, but I do usually see them traveling along the road here. It's been quite some time since I've last seen any of them. I thought maybe it was just because of the cold weather really settling in but now..."

You really didn't like the sound of that and your flesh prickled at the information. 

"Thank you," you breathed a shaky sigh, "you've been a lot of help."

"No problem at all," the man said at once, "is there perhaps anything else I could do to be of use?"

"Actually, there is _something_ you can do," Vigna spoke up, "in the event that we discover anything... troubling... it would be beneficial to us if you were the one to alert the authorities. The world at large is still in denial of the kind of things that go along with our... _profession_."

The farmer gave a small frown in understanding.

"While I hope there will be no need for it, you have my word— _and_ my discretion."

Vigna bowed his head in appreciation and then you were off once more; hoping right along with the farmer that there would be nothing of consequence to find but, deep down, you knew otherwise.

You just knew.

****************

There is a strange confliction of feelings that rains down upon a person when they know a situation is dire but are aware there is nothing they can do to prevent it: on one hand a blaring sense of urgency coarses through their veins, begging them to get where they are going as quickly as possible; on the other hand they find themselves weighed down by reluctance, wishing to prolong the time between the present and having to face whatever nightmare that awaited them. You and Vigna combated such feelings by choosing to walk to your destination, sending Griffon ahead to scout out the area. 

In the full splendor of daylight, you were finally able to appreciate the wide spectrum of color that made up Griffon's new plumage; all the shades of red and orange along with the hues of yellow that weaved through his feathers like spun threads of gold. As he took to the sky, wings spread to capacity, you were utterly rapt by his radiance and grace.

"A phoenix," you breathed then turned smiling to your beau, "I guess you all kind of are."

"'When I am consumed in the fire,  
Give me Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.'" Vigna stood and watched the avian demon fly off, his upturned head exposing his neck to the cold, "A shame his loud mouth dispels such beauty."

"You're awful, you know that, V?" you laughed, your expression in complete contradiction of your words.

"And would the one who loves this awful person be more or less so?" He challenged with a quizzical raise of one of his dark brows. 

"Objectively more so, I should think," you answered as your heart thundered wildly within your ribcage. Vigna's playful demeanor gave way to one of subdued adoration, his green eyes awash in softness.

"Never," he took your hand and kissed it before enfolding it with his. The pair of you then resumed your trek towards the grim scene that surely awaited you. 

*************

Onward you marched, filling the time that passed with idle chatter when the silence became too oppressive. As you neared your destination, Griffon finally circled back and perched on Vigna's outstretched arm.

"Ooh, it's bad, V!" the bird huffed, confirming your suspicions, "I got a really horrible vibe from that place, so as soon as I spotted the bodies I got the fuck outta there!" 

"A wise decision," came his master's calm affirmation. 

The community was a small cluster of homes and other buildings, and even from a distance you could tell there was no human life there; too still and much too silent, the houses and yards already showing signs of neglect. With all of your demonic partners freed from their inky bondage, your group finally arrived in the settlement proper. 

"They're in there, V," Griffon shuddered as he indicated the large community building that stood as the hub of the tiny village. As you approached building, the sickly sweet smell of decay was both immediate and obvious. Vigna stopped in his tracks and turned to you, placing a gentle hand upon your shoulder to halt your advance. 

"Before we go in, let's do a little... preparation."

From his pocket, he fished out a small vial fitted with a medicine dropper. He opened the bottle and squeezed out a drop upon his finger before dotting the liquid under his nose. He then offered the vial to you.

"Peppermint oil. For the smell," he explained.

You took the vial, partially impressed the conjurer thought to pick such an item up but mostly sickened that such a consideration had to be made in the first place. You opened the bottle and followed suit, your nostrils rushed with the burning scent of menthol. It wasn't exactly comfortable but considering the alternative it was a small price you were willing to pay. 

Finally, it was time to go in. Vigna took point, his hair blindingly white as he cradled the Nightmare rifle securely in his hands. He pushed in the heavy door, the air absolutely putrid even filtered through the scent of the minty oil that annointed your nose. You allowed Shadow and Phantom to scurry in ahead, the spider's body glowing with a rippling flame-like aura. Vigna, Griffon, and you followed in closely behind the pair and the sight you beheld had you trembling. 

They had been attending a social gathering, just like the victims from the cabin. The large room was adorned with all kinds of winter flowers, namely camellia and English primroses, now dried out, withered and ready to crumble under even the most delicate of touches. Long tables lined the length of the area, covered with lacy, white table cloths that were simple but of impeccable quality. The remnants of rotting food buzzed with insects, the most eye catching of all being the grotesque lump of filth that stood elevated upon an ornate cake stand. Finally, the people. They were finely dressed, their state of decay far more advanced than the bodies at the cabin. Men and woman, likely both young and old and, most despicable of all, children; children of all ages. Brutal. Indiscriminate. 

Unforgivable.

You bit down on your tongue in order to fight back your tears. Crying would be of no use to anyone right now; certainly not the poor babes that had been mercilessly slain in service of Thiriel's ridiculous plan. 

"There's another one of those symbols painted on the wall here," Phantom's voice resounded through the room, comforting you with their sense of purpose.

"It's the same sigil as last time," Vigna observed, "and the blood... it's been taken as well." The poet's voice wavered as he spoke, clearly affected by the gruesome scene, "There's nothing more to be done here, we should—"

Vigna's thought was cut short by the ringing fermata of barriers phasing into existence, effectively halting any plans for a quick exit. Small portals formed, and out poured hordes of zombie-esque demons like you had fought with Vigna after your escape from the bunker. Your stomach turned at the sight; their very presence seemed a vulgar mockery of the people who had been cruelly murdered. Shadow was the first to attack, their body shifting into a torrent of spikes that both pierced the demons and sent them flying. Griffon spread his wings wide before unleashing a bombardment of thunderous bolts upon the enemy while Vigna thinned out the mass with well timed shots. You had Phantom fire concentrated blasts into the fray before moving in to deliver the finishing strike with your sword.

Even with all of your might combined and the relative weakness of the enemies, victory still wasn't assured. The throng of demons was endless and even though the room was spacious it was quickly filling up, forcing you and Vigna to climb atop of a table for better positioning. Shadow was the first to fall into stalemate, the in-your-face directness of its attacks ill-suited for such a crowd. In an attempt to compensate for the loss of Shadow's manpower you focused more energy into your arachnid companion, allowing him to crush into the foes with pillars of white hot magma, but even then the demons pressed on and eventually Phantom also fell. 

The lumbering zombies soon began to climb up the table, leaving you to push them back with a swift kick or a slash of your sword. Poor Griffon worked tirelessly, hoping to stall long enough for his comrades to revive but every second seemed to stretch on into eternity. The situation looked dire, so dire you wondered if this place would become your tomb like the others who laid wasting upon the floor but Vigna...

Vigna began to laugh.

"Did you completely lose your marbles during your time in the Underworld?" Griffon squalled in disbelief, "Eh, not that I could blame ya but still!"

The dark maestro composed himself and with a look of arrant confidence he called out a verse from a sonnet that was oh too familiar :

"'Why did I laugh? I know this Being's lease,  
My fancy to its utmost blisses spreads;  
Yet would I on this very midnight cease,  
And all the world's gaudy ensigns see in shreds;  
Verse, Fame, and Beauty are intense indeed,  
But Death intenser— Death is Life's high meed!'"

The rifle in his hands floated away like a stage prop hoisted on strings unseen and in a triumphant implosion of light, the firearm was gone; the sleeping giant finally awakening. Vigna slipped his arm around your waist and in the next second you were both standing summit atop the cyclopean goliath. 

"Burn'em down!"

Nightmare set forth an emission of sweeping laser blasts that scattered the demons and sent them flying through the air like paper confetti. The colossus thrummed with immense power, the energy so great you could feel it resonating through the thick soles of your boots. 

"Oh, HELL yeah!" the freshly revived Griffon rejoiced as he, Shadow and eventually Phantom all returned to the fray. 

Next, Nightmare crouched down and Vigna grabbed hold of you once more as the two of you dropped safely behind the behemoth. Nightmare gathered up energy in preparation of a mighty blast, its core glowing a flashy purple. 

"Apocalypse falls!" 

The devastating blow ripped straight through the remaining bulk of the crowd, eliminating them all as they crumbled into aether.

"We're all back, baby! FUCK YEAH!" Griffon circled around Nightmare in a lap of victory. There was something so profoundly stirring about seeing them all assembled in one place; something so right, like it was how things were always meant to be. Vigna let the four demons mingle until his power reached its limit and Nightmare retired to its hirsute residence.

The sound of one man applause caught your attention. The culprit was a masked, hooded stranger clad in earthen tones, the sound of their slow claps muffled by their leather gloves. As they approached you could make out a blue and red brooch pinned to the front of their draping cowl. In short,

"What the fuck?"

You couldn't believe your eyes and would have thought you were hallucinating if not for the same expression of disbelief mirrored upon Vigna's face. 

"You destroyed those demons most impressively," if his voice wasn't identical, then it was a close match.

"You... _what are you_?" Vigna growled, his face pinched into a scowl of complete loathing. 

The stranger outstretched his arms wide.

"Who do I look like?"

"LIAR!" Vigna snarled like an animal gone rabid as he wordlessly sicced his demonic companions on the imposter. Griffon flew headlong into the man, knocking him over while Shadow snatched him up, entwining their amorphous body around him to keep him captive. They made it seem easy; perhaps _too_ easy. The fraud began to laugh, a terrible and haunting laugh made all the worse by being uttered with your lover's voice.

"All of these people, I made sure that they would fear this form, even as they drew their dying breaths!"

Vigna gave him no satisfaction in answering, choosing simply to rip away the mask that concealed the murderer's face. 

The killer's face was blank and undefined as though someone where painting a portrait and never filled in the details. Before you let yourself breathe a sigh of relief, you felt a stirring twinge of intuition.

"V! Get away from him!" you called out in desperation. 

It all happened so fast.

Phantom leapt in front of Vigna, shielding him as the strange imposter exploded and rendered Shadow into instant stalemate. Even with the cover from your arachnid the force of the explosion sent Vigna flying. Thankfully, Griffon was able to catch the summoner before he collided into the far wall. The explosion caught the nearest table on fire and before you knew it the flames were spreading rapidly, filling the room with thick, billowing smoke. Griffon sat Vigna back on his feet and the conjurer immediately set to work on restoring his feline familiar. With that done, your group escaped through the door; thankfully whatever power that had set the barriers in place faded away with the death of the bizarre pretender.

Safely outdoors, you and Vigna coughed before taking in lungfuls of clean air. Vigna dropped to his knees, exhausted, and honestly? You were right there with him. 

"Thiriel..." the poet spat, "to think he'd create some kind of _puppet_ with my likeness to handle his dirty work." He clawed at the ground, his features softening into a look of sorrowful defeat. "For a moment, I even began to doubt my own identity..."

"Oh, Vigna," you brushed his hair from his face, "Thiriel is playing mind games— this whole thing was designed to spite you and make you lose faith in yourself." He held your hand against his cheek and offered you the smallest of smiles.

"I know. Self doubt I can deal with but when it comes to you..."

You kissed him and then smiled.

"Never."

"Thank you for protecting me back there," Vigna continued, "it's hard to say what sort of damage I might have endured if you hadn't intervened."

"Actually, I can't take credit for that one. Phantom was on it before I thought to send him over." You smiled brightly at your familiar with the deepest of apreciation.

"Uggh! S-stop with that detestable smiling!" Phantom protested, "you're imagining things! As if I would go out of my way to protect a gnat like him!" 

"Well, whatever the case may be, I still owe you my thanks."

"Y-yeah, well, whatever."

"Awww! Would you look at that!" Griffon crooned as he perched atop Phantom's back, "You really do care about our boy after all! Guess you're just a big ol' softie beneath that tough exterior!" 

"Bah! Silence you fool!" Phantom took a swipe at Griffon with his barbed tail which the jaunty bird jumped over as easily as a child skipping rope, laughing smugly at his success. With a final groan, Phantom dematerialized back into the markings on your body. You shook your head in disaproval; sometimes Griffon was just too much.

*******************

About a week had passed since your grizzly discovery and thankfully there had been no other confrontations since then, your group never staying in one place for too long for fear of any danger you might attract. During the first day Vigna was more quiet than usual, more introspective and you took it in stride; just being there with him and, more importantly, _for_ him was good enough for you. Besides, with your assortment of demons there was rarely a dull moment to be had. In any case, eventually Vigna's inner turmoil passed and soon he was his usual self again, the following days bringing forth the kind of mundane happiness that the average person often took for granted. All you could do now is play the waiting game.

You awoke one morning to rain that only progressed into an aggressive rainstorm as the day went on. You had to chuckle at your misfortune for just yesterday you had left the comfort of a small inn. No matter, the patter of rain against the tent's heavy canvas was soothing and the little propane heater kept the small space quite cozy. After some of the places you had stayed, you definitely couldn't complain. 

There wasn't much to do to pass the time while stuck inside the confines of the tent. You and Vigna chatted at length about practically any topic that came to mind and suffice to say, not only did you know each other better, but you both agreed a serious movie marathon and music listening session was in order for the "betterment of your mutual understading of the arts." 

Sure, Vigna. 

With every avenue of conversation temporarily exhausted, Vigna read aloud from his John Keats tome. His voice was always a delight to hear but when he recited those aged lines, his practiced delivery coupled with the richness of his tone was a particular treat for the ears. 

"I'm starting to feel like I would be able to recognize Keats or Blake just about anywhere," you said offhandedly after Vigna had ceased his readings.

"Hmm... let's test that, shall we? 

'Though nothing can bring back the hour  
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;  
We will grieve not, rather find  
Strength in what remains behind;  
In the primal sympathy  
Which having been must ever be.'"

Oh, shit. _Did_ you recognize that? 

"Uh... Keats?" you ventured.

"William Wordsworth."

"Hey! That's cheating!" you protested. Vigna chuckled mischievously.

"Are we playing a game now?"

A cheeky thought crossed your mind; the only question was: did you dare? You bit your lip, deciding to take the plunge, as you slipped off your sweater revealing your plain t-shirt underneath. Vigna tilted his head as he gazed at you, bemused.

"How... curious. Care to explain?"

"I propose we _do_ play a game," you suggested, your words far more cool than you felt, "Strip... uh... Poetry... Guessing— okay, the name needs work but you get the idea."

"Interesting proposition," he mused, "I accept."

"Great," you breathed, quivering with nervous excitement. Vigna smiled slyly at you.

"I believe it's... your turn."

"Right," you tittered, and thoroughly racked your brain for a verse, "Okay, I got one. I think it goes...

'I would like to watch you sleeping,  
which may not happen.  
I would like to watch you,  
sleeping. I would like to sleep  
with you, to enter  
your sleep as its smooth dark wave  
slides over my head.'"

You had gone with something contemporary in hopes of tripping him up, but not _too_ recent— that would hardly be fair all things considered.

"I believe those to be the words of Ms. Margaret Atwood," he answered without missing a beat. Well, so much for your curveball.

"All right, my turn," Vigna's eyes seemed to smile as he gave a lone chortle, 

"'’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves   
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogoves,  
And the mome raths outgrabe.'"

You burst out laughing at the nonsensical verse, totally caught off guard by Vigna's choice. At the sound of your laughter the poet broke out in peals of his own, no longer able to hold back.

"First off, kudos on such a stunning delivery," you said after composing yourself, "secondly, that's definitely Lewis Carroll."

"Correct," he affirmed, still smiling. You felt yourself relax, all trace of nervousness forgotten. Maybe Vigna wouldn't _totally_ annihilate you after all.

******************

Off went your pants after Vigna's latest stumper, leaving you clad in naught but your skivvies. Meanwhile, the poet remained mostly clothed; the only difference being he now sat in a tank top. Why you ever thought you stood a chance against such a formidable foe was beyond you. You pursed your lips glumly; you were beginning to run out of verses to recite, especially ones that you thought had even the remotest chance of baffling the dark haired man.

"'She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that’s best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes.'"

There was no chance he wouldn't get it, the verse coming from one of Lord Byron's best known works, but you weren't a quitter. 

"...Percy Shelley." His answer was an absolute shock.

"Huh? No, it's Byron!" you tried not to sound too incredulous.

"Of course. My mistake," the man's face reddened as he removed his top, offering you your first ever unobscured view of his bare torso. You tried not to stare like some kind of depraved lecher but the dark intricacies of his tattoos were so mesmerizing you couldn't help a few stolen glances. The sound of his voice thankfully grounded your straying mind.

"'One need not be a chamber to be haunted,  
One need not be a house;  
The brain has corridors surpassing  
Material place.'"

"Emily Dickinson," you answered at once, eyebrows raised in disbelief. It was the same poem you had recited to V long ago. Maybe things played out differently in Vigna's universe or maybe he had simply forgotten, but somehow you didn't think so. In fact, you suspected he was purposely throwing the game. One way to find out...

"'To see a world in a grain of sand  
And a Heaven in a wild flower  
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand  
And Eternity in an hour.'"

"John Keats," he didn't quite meet your eye as he answered. 

"Nope..." was all you could muster, the clamoring of your heart leaving you breathless as he fumbled with his belt buckle and removed his trousers. He looked at your for a time, his green eyes searching. He swallowed thickly, his throat dipping in an attractive bob before reciting his next quote.

"'Life is but a day;  
A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way  
From a tree’s summit.'"

He was giving you an out if you wanted it, of this you had no doubt. Your heart swelled; how dear that little innocuous misquote had come to be to you. 

"William Blake," you said, already removing your bra. He looked at you with such fixed intensity you feared you might drown, engulfed by eyes like the emerald depths of Lake Carezza. 

Then, he was kissing you with a deep and marked passion the likes of which you never experienced before. One hand cradled your face while the other roamed your body, exploring your various slopes and curves with eager engrossment. He laid you down, his lips and teeth grazing along the tender flesh of your neck and breasts as he made his way to a more southern bound area of your body. His kisses stopped at the hem of your panties and he lingered there before looking up at you with starving eyes.

"I have another poem prepared for your... _enjoyment_... if you wish."

Holy mother of _fuck_ was he sexy. Your mind was pulling a 404 so you simply nodded, already squirming beneath him in anticipation. He smirked as his slender fingers hooked under your thoroughly moistened panties and pulled them down but only to your ankles. He hoisted your legs up and positioned himself between them before letting them drape over his shoulders. His hands ghosted over your trembling thighs and gripped onto them before bowing his head between them, his tongue spelling out his original composition upon your dripping sex. You writhed beneath him, your mental faculties benumbed with pleasure from what was quickly becoming your favorite poem of all time. You balled your hands into fists, your fingernails digging into your palms as a moan escaped from the tightness of your throat.

"V, Vigna! I'm going to come if you don't stop!" you managed to choke out. You felt him smile but the calligraphy of his tongue never ceased. True to your word your body stiffened, back arching as you cried out in completion. He drew back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm with a smugly satisfied look. Your brow furrowed, chagrined that you had reached climax so quickly; there _had_ been a lengthy recess in your sex life afterall. His expression softened as he reached over to stroke your face.

"Do you need to stop?" he inquired gently, his eyes betraying nothing but care for you. You shook your head.

"No, I can keep going."

He grinned, retreating from between your legs in order to reposition himself. When he leaned back you could see just how painfully erect he was and shuddered, pressing your thighs together in longing against your still throbbing nethers. Vigna removed his briefs, sucking air through his teeth as his manhood was finally set free, the tip weeping with his own pressing need. He slipped your panties off the rest of the way and listlessly tossed them over his shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed you, the meeting of your mouths both sweet and begging as he rubbed himself along your wetness, prepping for entry. Your hands brushed through his blackened tresses and he pulled back to look into your eyes, breath hot and shaking.

"I love you," he confessed and you could tell it was the simple, undeniable truth.

"I love you too."

He pushed himself forward and just like that your bodies joined; a union forged in stark defiance of death, time, and all dimension. His thrusts were deep and rhythmic, keeping up an impressively steady meter that brought you nearer to the edge with each stroke. Vigna moaned and groaned with such open abandon that the sound alone could likely get you off. You wrapped your legs around his waist pressing him ever deeper within as you began to reach the height of your pleasure. Finally, your walls tightened around his thickened shaft as you found your release once more, the resulting orgasm mind-blowing and so drawn out you forgot how to breathe. After a few more thrusts Vigna was spent as well, his seed spilling deep inside you. He lingered, resting his forehead against yours as he savored the feeling of your still contracting sex. 

With a bit of reluctance, he retracted from you and held you tightly in his arms, covering your face with nuzzles and kisses. You felt your eyelids flutter as you started to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

How was _that_ for a poetry slam?


	10. Chapter 19

In the passing days, you and Vigna garnered plenty of enjoyment from each other's company— which is a euphemistic way of saying the two of you made love as frequently as you did fervently. Make no mistake, you were never distracted or neglectful of the greater mission at hand, the two of you simply dedicated the bulk of your free time to the reintroduction and rediscovery of each other's bodies. Mapping out the topography of Vigna's markings had become a particular passion project of yours. You loved tracing your fingers over the whorls on his hands or the little crescent moon shapes on his shoulders. You found yourself staring into the chilling pair of "eyes" that branded his chest so often during your trysts that you couldn't help being fond of them as well. Of course, you'd be remiss if you didn't mention the oval patch of skin on his lower back that was completely clear of his markings. It reminded you of the intentional lack of makeup on the back of a geisha's neck; a teasing reminder that the dark latticework that scrawled over his body merely masked his warm, virile flesh.

You were staying at a motel, you and Vigna content to simply cuddle while your demons lounged about, when you got a call from Jeffrey. Reluctant as you were to be torn from your domestic bliss, you still answered with a ready eagerness.

"_____, hey! Glad you answered so quickly," the journalist sounded as earnestly relieved as his words denoted, "I think I may know the next place the Sons have hit and I only wish I had caught on sooner. A tsunami— completely out of season and with no warning— hit the unhabited coast of a small island community. Three guesses on which island."

You frowned at the man's words, worry quickly settling in.

"Fortuna?"

"Bingo."

"Have you gotten in touch with Nero?"

"I tried to call him first actually," the blond sighed, "Rang up both phones and still no answer."

That certainly was troubling. You bit your lip, your upturned brows huddling together as you cycled through all the possible misfortunes that may have befallen your friends. Vigna's slender fingers caressed your thigh before lacing with your own digits. You shot him a half smile, grateful for his silent show of comfort. Resolute, a sharp exhale passed your lips before responding to the blond journalist.

"Right, well, we'll look into it ASAP."

"Okay, keep me in the loop, ______; I'll be sure to keep my ear to the ground on my end," the journalist paused for a bit, sighing amiably before adding, "Try to be careful, okay?"

A warmhearted chuckle escaped your lips, appreciative of your friend's concern. 

"I'll try."

When you hung up the phone, every eye in the room was trained on you (most of them belonging to Phantom of course), awaiting for you to share the news you had so obviously just been bestowed. Your eyes swept over to meet each of their gazes before settling on the soothing green of Vigna's patient observance. 

"The Sons may be in Fortuna and Nero could be in trouble— Jeffrey can't seem to get ahold of him or anyone else," you tried to keep your voice steady as you spoke, not wanting the nervousness you felt to bleed into your words, "I know that Nero is strong but I'm still worried. How soon do you think we can leave for Fortuna?"

Vigna studied your face and you felt like in that moment he could read absolutely everything you hid there. 

"I find there is no time like the present... wouldn't you agree?" One of his dark brows rose, his words smoother than fine liqueur. A smile slowly spread across your cheeks.

"Music to my ears." 

***************

You couldn't quite say you were used to it just yet, but as you traveled atop Shadow this time around you felt significantly more at ease; in fact you were fairly certain the queasy feeling in your stomach was due to the nervousness you felt for your friends— mostly. Before leaving the sleepy motel, you had made sure to call Dante on his newly acquired cell phone. While the red coated hunter assured you he and his twin would head over immediately, it still did little to quell the sense of unease you felt. The salty smell of the ocean snapped you from your thoughts before you could even spot it on the horizon and it wasn't long before you found yourselves crossing the bridge to the anachronistic island town.

Shadow finally stopped in front of the Fortuna trio's cozy home and resumed their spot within their master's flesh. You drew in a breath as you felt your stomach drop back into place when your feet met the ground at long last. The garage door was shut tight— a telltale sign that Nico wasn't tinkering around inside and a likely indicator nobody was at home. Your rapt, urgent knocks at the front door yielded no answer, nor did your proceeding phone calls to their phones. You peered in through one of the windows, the glass cool against your forehead as you squinted, struggling to see against the midday glare. You heaved a vexed sigh; you couldn't see a damn thing. You felt Vigna's hand on your back as he turned you to face him.

"Let's... have a look, shall we?" He tossed his head coolly towards the front door.

"Right, okay," you nodded, "so, you have an idea about how to get in there?"

"I believe I do." His confidence was reassuring and you felt yourself relax the slightest bit until— _Crash!_ The sound of shattering glass left you feeling bewildered as your lover punched a gloved hand straight through one of the small windows that framed the front door. He reached in and undid the lock before stepping back, a mischievous look mired in those green eyes of his. You felt your jaw drop.

"V! You can't— you can't just go and do something like that!"

"Oh, but I just did," came the summoner's retort, looking perhaps a tad too amused at your gaping expression, "apologies will be given if need be. I'd rather be sorry than, well... sorry."

He had a good point, as per usual. After a couple of tentative glances this way and that, the two of you stole your way inside.

A preliminary sweep of the couple's home turned up nothing out the ordinary; if your friends were in trouble then it was safe to say it was happening somewhere else. The question still remained— where the hell were they? 

"How about the church?" Vigna suggested with a small flourish of his hand, "if the Sons are here, it seems a likely place."

"Yeah... yeah, that makes sense," you found yourself nodding in agreement, "Occam's Razor and all that jazz, right?"

"'More than you know'."

***********************

The church was relatively close even by walking standards so that is precisely how the two of you decided to travel. Before leaving the house, Vigna slipped his on his mask. That mask, with its intricately patterned vines and soft green color, had been a gift from Pia and yet when you saw it all you could think about was that horrific puppet Thiriel had created. You had to wonder if it was such a good idea to wear the mask anymore. 

"I believe I share your sentiments— let there be no doubt," Vigna grimaced with something close to bitterness, "however, given Nero's... _temperment_... I feel it best to gradually ease him into the nature of my existence; less chaos that way."

"Better he try to skewer you _after_ there's no immediate danger— good call," you conceded with a playful grin. Vigna simply smirked.

*******************

Your arrival at the church brought you more than you had bargained for. Gathered around a surrendering man who looked every bit a bronzed Adonis with flaming red hair and armor befitting a king, was not only all three of the Sparda men but also Trish and Lady. Nico's van was parked defensively in the in street, serving as some kind of barricade. As you approached you could hear Dante laughing jovially at something he had said to Trish.

"Look, I'll level with you," the red head began, kicking a large rifle that rested at his feet even farther away from his person, "I'm not too stupid to realize I am outnumbered and outmatched. Even if I did walk away from this somehow, I failed what I came here to do. Thiriel would just kill me. We're already not on the best of terms which is why he left me behind on this island in the first place after summoning our last comrade, Utha, from the Underworld. This whole thing has snowballed way out of control. There is more to this than what Thiriel says, I just know it. And what he's done to his own mother..."

"Pia," Vigna's voice finally called attention to your presence, Nero's eyes catching yours for a nano second before he glumly looked away, "that armor and gun are her work; I'd recognize it anywhere. Tell me, is she alive?"

"Yes, if you can call it that," the red haired demon replied, "Thiriel had Grodna enslave her mind and is forcing her to forge for us. He is still keeping her alive because he wants her to make... something. A sword? I'm not sure but he wants her use some kind of fragment in it."

"Does he intend to forge another Yamato?" Vergil inquired with a face screwed up in disgust, "impossible."

"Not quite as improbable as you might think," Vigna fiddled with his brooch, the significance of the action lost on everyone but you, "if there is anyone out there that has the expertise to make a sword that rivals Yamato, it's Pia."

"So he wants to open a portal?" Lady suggested and at her words Trish looked as though somebody stepped on her grave.

"That is exactly what he plans to do," the blonde's tone was grim as she slipped a piece of paper from her pocket, carefully unfolded it, and began to address you and Vigna, "this symbol you wrote down? — It's used for opening portals."

"So, I'm guessing this isn't something he'd break out just for springing the other Sons outta hell then?" Dante asked, stretching his arms as though he were already bored. 

"Exactly," Trish answered with a nod, "This sigil would certainly get the job done, but it would be like using a sword to butter toast; total overkill. We're either dealing with complete amateurs or the Sons are planning something big."

Nero gave a haughty chuckle as he jabbed his thumb at one of the aforementioned Sons. 

"Well, after meeting this guy—"

"— Fuzon," the demon interjected as though he were trying to be helpful. Nero narrowed his eyes before continuing.

"Whatever. _Anyway_ , after meeting this guy, it's kind of hard to say which is the case."

Fuzon shrugged as though he found Nero's assessment of him to be fair. 

Between the symbols, all of the human blood that had been taken, and the likelihood that Thiriel was crafting a Yamato knockoff, you suddenly felt like you could see the bigger, more horrifying picture. 

"Would the Yamato be able to destroy the barrier between the human world and the demon world?" you directed your question towards Vergil, all tension between you momentarily forgotten within the severity of the situation, "like, completely?"

The furrowed lines that creased his brow gave his answer before the half-devil uttered a single syllable. 

"Under the right conditions, I believe it could. Especially if they are using those sigils to weaken the already thin veil."

Shit. You were afraid of that.

"Well, I see no use in standing around here," Trish proclaimed with an agitated sigh as she bound Fuzon's wrists and hoisted him over her shoulder with effortless poise. Vergil's face crumpled into a look of disapproval.

"What exactly are you doing with him?"

"Taking him back to the office and finding out what he knows," the blonde answered without missing a beat, "if he's not feeling chatty then I have ways of making him talk." The expression on Fuzon's face seemed to suggest he was rather excited about the prospect. You looked over at Vergil, sharing a fleeting moment of camaraderie in your mutual disgust. With a quick exchange of goodbyes and a reassurance that they'd be in touch, the two women and the Sparda twins were off with their too willing captive in tow.

Without a single glance or word of parting, Nero turned and made his way towards Nico's van.

"Nero! Nero, wait, please," you scrambled after him and reached out to place a hand upon his shoulder. He turned to you, staring you down with his best attempt at a cold look but you could see right through it— aloof never was his strong suit. 

"Pretty rude of me to just leave without any warning, huh?" 

"I know! I know, okay?" More than a little frazzled, your roaming hand mussed your hair as you addressed the young hunter, "I was thoughtless, and-and stupid! I was careless and just all the things I shouldn't have been!"

"You took so long to call," whatever remained of Nero's icy facade shattered to pieces then.

"I did and I have no real excuse," you shrugged, "only that I was afraid."

"Tch! Afraid? What of?"

" _You_ , or your reaction really. I just didn't know how to face you after things fell through between Vergil and me. I was afraid things would be... I don't know— different."

Nero crossed his arms and stared you down with the driest look he could muster. 

"Listen here, ______. You're a part of my family and whoever you're dating or not dating will ever change that. We clear?"

"Crystal," you smiled a goofy, lopsided grin as your chest warmed with affection for the young hunter. 

"So about this mysterious guy you ran off with," Nero cleared his throat and changed the subject, your little heart to heart clearly leaving him more than a little embarrassed.

"It's a long story—"

"—And one I definitely want to hear," he cut you off with a grin, "but right now I'm curious about one thing: this guy often pull disappearing acts?"

You frowned at the question, completely cut off guard. Your lips moved to question your friend but you found yourself turning on your heel instead, looking franticly for Vigna only to be greeted with emptiness. 

Gone.

He was gone.

*************

There was no denying that Vigna was a master of the French leave, but that was _before_ ; he wouldn't just leave you behind now no matter how anxious he was to find Pia, of this you felt certain. The thought provided you with little comfort, however, for the only other alternative meant that something had happened. Nero wasn't convinced.

"Dunno. Kinda seems like he ditched you."

"He wouldn't do that," you insisted, "trust me on this."

Nero gave you a narrow, scrutinizing look.

"I know you've got questions," you continued, "but let's just put a pin in it for now. It's... complicated." Complicated felt like the understatement of the year but you just didn't have the time to give your friend the explanation he deserved. You couldn't quiet the nagging sense of urgency that battered against your heart, the feeling every bit as turbulent as the tide crashing along a stormy seacoast. 

Before Nero could so much as open his mouth to rebuff your unsatisfying declaration, Nico pulled up in her van, horn blaring.

"That really neccesary?" the devil hunter scowled at the rambunctious weaponsmith as he twisted a finger inside one of his offended ears. Nico leaned out her window as she took a long drag off her cigarette.

"No," she answered with a smirk after deliberately aiming her smoky exhale in Nero's direction. 

"Tch!" Nero frowned as he fanned away the smoke.

"Need a lift, ______?" Kyrie's sweet voice carried effortlessly from the passenger seat, instantly brightening Nero's gloomy expression. You shook your head.

"Thanks, but I don't even know where I'm going."

"So what? Hop in and we can figure it out on the way," Nero punctuated his sentence with a friendly slap to your back. 

"Oh, just get in here already!" Nico insisted before you even had a chance to voice any further hesitation, "or we'll hog tie you and throw your ass in here!" Kyrie nodded empathically in agreement at Nico's threat.

"See? Even Fortuna's new spiritual leader agrees," Nico insisted with childlike vindication, "Now get in!"

You cocked your head to the side, puzzled; clearly you had missed out on some new developments. Nero opened the van's door and looked back at you expectantly. You breathed a relenting sigh and climbed in— it's not like standing alone in the street would help you find Vigna and the others any faster. 

******************

Jeffrey had said on the phone that the tsunami hit the uninhabited side of Fortuna and all of the sites you and Vigna had found always seemed to be away from the staged encounters the Sons had set up. When you relayed all of this information to your friends, Nero mentioned there was a derelict church long abandoned within the depths of Mitis Forest... and that's where you found yourself heading now, holding on for dear life to the table in front of you as Nico's van jounced through the unnaturally tropical forest. Nico and her van were an unstoppable force of nature and by now you were entirely convinced she could move mountains if need be— hell, possibly literally if her driving back at Lamina's Peak was anything to go by. 

"So, we've had plenty of time to catch up but you still haven't said anything about this Vigna guy. Care to clue us in?" Nero practically had to shout over the noisy van as its engine worked overtime even though he was sitting across from you. 

"I'm telling you, any answer I give you will only spring up more questions. It's something you'll have to see to believe."

"Vigna's that masked fella, right?" Nico called back to you. 

"Yeah, that's him."

"Gotta ask, does he keep the mask on durin' sex? 'Cause seems to me that'd be the wrong kinda protection."

"Nico! What kind of question is that?" Nero chided, "Who said that ______ is even with this guy like that anyway?" Nico burst into a fit of laughter.

"Sure are cute sometimes, Li'l Bro!" 

Nero turned to you looking as though he were anticipating your denial but you could only offer him a sheepish wince. He tried to mask it, but an unmistakable shadow of judgement passed over Nero's features.

"Nero, there's a good explanation—"

"— Hey, it's fine. Not my business."

"Vigna is V."

"He's _who?_ _What?_ How is that even possible?"

You had to laugh at your predictions becoming true. 

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you..."

****************

By the time you finished explaining the mind fuck that was Vigna's existence, Nero had a look of disillusionment akin to a child learning Santa Claus isn't real.

"Man, every time I start to think I have things figured out, crazy shit like this proves me dead wrong."

"It's a little comforting though, don't you think?" Kyrie's brown eyes sparkled as she spoke, "Knowing that in some other universe somebody you lost might still be living on? It doesn't erase any loss, of course, but it's... nice." She smiled and you knew she was thinking of her parents and of her brother Credo. Nero's answering smile radiated a warmth and tenderness that was reserved solely for the lovely redhead.

"Yeah... you're right," he said gently before turning to you, "It's a lot to wrap my head around but now I get why this— why he— is so important to you."

"Thank you."

"Okay, okay!" Nico shouted, "Enough with the sappy chitter chatter, we're here!" Her words were true enough but you couldn't help but notice her voice sounded a little strained. As you headed out the door the glimpse you caught of the inventor's face confirmed your suspicions; she had been crying. 

************

The ruined church stood as a silent monument for the civilization which erected it. Structurally it was quite solid, not yet wholly reclaimed by the untamed wilderness that surrounded it. Nero batted nary at lash at the magnificent building, clearly too thoroughly acquainted with its halls to be impressed with them anymore. The inside was not so large as its grand exterior seemed to impress, so thankfully it took no time at all to reach its inner sanctum and the figure that stood waiting within.

"V! Vigna!"

He had no reaction to your voice, his body as rigid and still as a statue. You ran to him, eager to find out what was the matter only for one of Nero's spectral limbs to reach out and stop you and not a moment too soon, for in the next second Vigna brandished an old, unfamiliar sword with a hostile flourish. Nero had time to flash you an apologetic look before the pair began to skirmish. Nero fought in a purely defensive manner as he fended off Vigna's attacks otherwise the Red Queen would have snapped the sword Vigna was using like a cheap toy. What exactly was going on here? Was the Vigna before you just another puppet? None of his familiars were anywhere in sight and yet there was the distinct possibility that the whole thing could be the Sons' way of manipulating you into killing Vigna. It wasn't safe to assume anything just yet but you had to find out soon, preferably before another surprise explosion. 

You summoned forth Phantom and set your focus on compelling the arachnid to swipe at Vigna's arms. You needed some sort of visual confirmation this Vigna was the real deal. Knocking off his mask was the obvious choice but it ran the risk of seriously harming him. Besides, if Thiriel had eyes on the fight between Vigna and the puppet (and you're sure he did) it meant Vigna's face was no longer a mystery. Your best bet was getting a glimpse of his tattoos; nobody knew them better than yourself and they wouldn't be easily mimicked. 

It was harder than you anticipated. Every time you moved in close with Phantom, Vigna dodged just out of reach while Nero was becoming more confused and agitated by the second. You felt bad for Nero, but you needed to keep Vigna in the dark— there was no telling what he would do if he knew your intentions. With your current method quickly getting nowhere, you decided to break out the big guns, or in this case, the small spider. With Vigna thoroughly distracted, you concentrated on having a tiny Phantom form and break off from the main Phantom and skitter away unnoticed. So far so good. You had one shot at this, if you missed it would be pretty clear what you were trying to do. Up Vigna the tiny Phantom crawled, slowly, remaining unseen and unfelt. At last, the little Phantom made it atop Vigna's left shoulder and without a single moment of hesitation, _RIIIIIIIIIIP!_ Using his itty bitty barbed tail, he tore through the fabric of Vigna's tunic, traveling down the entire length of his arm like a miniature buccaneer slicing through a ship's sail in a swashbuckling film. The split fabric of Vigna's sleeve hung loosely from his arm and there was absolutely no mistaking the dark, scrolling flourishes that ornamented his skin.

"It's really him!" you gasped.

"Wait... what? Was there ever any doubt?" Nero huffed after narrowly dodging one of Vigna's strikes, "Ugh, I was kinda hopin' you had some kind of plan."

"Yeah, you and me both." It did beg the question of what exactly you were supposed to do now. It seemed most likely that Vigna had been brainwashed by the Sons; there had to be a way to reverse it, a way to bring him back to his senses. You were drawing a blank.

"Get ready. I'm gonna come at you— for real!" 

This troubling phrase from Nero was directed at you. Apparently the issue wasn't up for discussion because before you could even so much as think of protesting, a newly transformed Nero emerged from the midst of a brilliant flash of blue. The shockwave from the transformation sent Vigna flying but he was quickly snatched up by one of Nero's phantom limbs and there he dangled, helplessly imprisoned in the hybrid's clawed grasp. This wasn't the first time you'd seen Nero in his demonic form, in fact, over the past two years there had been plenty of occasions for you to witness it. However, standing there in that abandoned chapel as Nero rushed at you, his long ivory tresses whipping wildly as his bestial eyes stared you down with feral intsensity, it was the first time the sight ever struck you with fear. 

You tried your damnedest to fight off Nero's assault with Phantom but your mentor was locked onto you like a homing missile and the arachnid's (admittedly halfhearted) attacks could do nothing to stray him off course. He knew your weaknesses too well and it was abundantly clear he planned to exploit them. He slashed at you with his free set of claws and you quickly parried the blow with your sword, the proceeding clash rippling through the iron of your blade with such protracted intensity that you could feel the vibrations in your teeth. Unfortunately, you weren't quite so lucky the second time he attacked, the sheer force of the strike enough to make you lose the grip on your sword and send it clattering noisily across the stone floor. The next thing you knew, you were on the floor wheezing in a violent exhale after a powerful kick connected with your abdomen. 

"C'mon!" Nero challenged, "Does seeing her get hurt make you feel nothing?" There was a tremble to his voice that was distinctive even through its demonic distortion, "Nothing at all?" Nero pulled back his leg as he prepared to dole out another kick. You closed your eyes, bracing for impact.

"STOP!" The lone word erupted from Vigna's mouth in a paroxysm of sheer agony. 

You opened your eyes just in time to see him slump over as limp as a ragdoll. You sprang to your feet, any pain you felt all but forgotten as you hastened to your lover's side. Still suspended within the safety of Nero's firm grip, Vigna's head had fallen forward—his chin against his chest— which made it all the more easier for you to reach up and remove his mask. The sight of his face made your hand cup over your mouth in an involuntary motion that stifled your hicupping sobs. His green eyes were wide open, hauntingly vacant but pooled with tears. 

"Oh, god, Nero! Is he dead?" You felt your legs threaten to buckle beneath you.

"Hey, hey, hey! He's breathin'— okay, ____? He's alive," Nero assured you as he supported your weight with his two human hands. He hunched forward, meeting you face to face as he continued, "Listen, _____. He's alive. He's fighting this thing and winning."

"You're right," you agreed with a relieving sigh, "he was able to call out and his body... it's no longer taking orders from those assholes."

"Exactly. If I know one thing about V it's that the scrappy bastard's been through worse than this. He'll pull through— you'll see." As he spoke, Nero cradled Vigna's unconscious form in a more secure position. You leaned over and placed a kiss upon the summoner's brow before gently closing his eyes, hoping it wouldn't be the last time you saw them.

***********

Being back under Kyrie and Nero's roof felt strange. That wasn't to say your friends had been unwelcoming— quite the contrary— you had only wished your visit was under more pleasant circumstances. Initially, you had voiced your reservations about the safety of having Vigna in their home when he was in such an unpredictable condition but Kyrie wouldn't abide such talk.

"It's sweet of you to worry about us, _____ but Nico and I will be fine. I'll be sure not to have any visitors over for a while so don't worry about any children running around either. Besides, you shouldn't be alone right now _____, and not just for your own safety."

So you found yourself back in your old room, everything as unchanged as the day you left and yet it felt so different. There had been so many nights that you had fallen asleep wishing for the return of the very man who now laid in your bed. Nearly two days had passed without the slightest change in Vigna's condition. It was a bleak situation made all the worse considering his unnatural slumber sealed away his familiars as well. Bearing all of that, you could only hope that things wouldn't come full circle.

Every so often one of your friends would pop in to see how you were doing or to bring you something to eat. The first time Nero stopped in, he delivered a heartfelt apology for hurting you all while making the most remorseful puppy dog eyes you'd ever seen on a human being. You'd forgiven him of course; he had only been trying to help and in the end you were no worse for wear. 

Another one of those visits heralded themselves with a knock at your door; too loud to be Kyrie's and too, well, _exsistent_ to be Nico's.

"Come on in, Nero," you called from your seat by your bed as you rubbed your bleary eyes, the door opening with a nearly imperceptible clack.

"Close! Close but no cigar." With one hand on his hip and other stroking his chin, the voice belonged to none other than Dante. You stood so abruptly you nearly knocked over your chair.

"What are you doing here?" There were so many other things that the half devil could have been doing that it truly astounded you to see him there. 

"Nero called us."

It was Vergil who answered as he pushed passed the red coated hunter, impatient with his twin's idle posturing. He stood beside you at Vigna's bedside and crossed his arms as he looked down at the younger man's frail form. Now you really were stunned. You found all you could do is gawk at the solemn man, your mouth hanging ajar. Not immune to your unflinching gaze, Vergil began to fidget slightly before turning towards you in exasperation.

"You'll catch flies."

Your mouth snapped shut at his words, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shot him a reproachful look. He looked away from you and his lips flinched in the slightest hint of a smile. 

"Don't act so surprised that we're here," he continued as he leaned over to examine Vigna closer, "You need help, we've come to do that. Simple. Although," he frowned as he pried open each of Vigna's eyes with his thumb and forefinger, "I doubt we'll be able to provide much of it." Vergil stood up straight and sighed as he wiped his fingers on the bottom of his jacket. 

"Well, whatever the case may be, I'm glad to have you here; both of you," you smiled, meaning the words with all your heart. You and Vergil shared a brief moment of warm regard before it dawned on you that Dante had been awfully quiet during this whole exchange. Your brow furrowed at this realization. "Speaking of Dante, where—?"

"—Oh, don't mind me," Dante interrupted in a singsong manner, "I'm just over here. Reading." He was sitting at your old desk with one of his legs propped atop its worn surface. 

"Reading? You?" Vergil huffed with an unkind smile, "Sure, that'll be the day."

"Hey now! I've read plenty," the younger twin asserted, "I just never felt the need to parade it around like a huge dork!" 

"Hmph!" Vergil's scoff only served to make Dante chuckle as he thumbed through the modest tome in his hands. You squinted to try to get a better look at the book and—

"Dante! Are you reading Vigna's journal?" Vigna always kept the leatherbound pocket journal on his person. When did he—? _How_ did he—? Damn him and his trickster ways! You marched over and took the book from the half devil's hands. "You can't just read that, Dante, it's private!"

"Aw, c'mon! It's not like he cares! You're no fun, _______." He placed his arms behind his head and tipped so far back in his chair that an average person surely would have teetered over.

"Maybe so, but it's the right thing to do. You're with me on this, right, Vergil?" Not a moment after these words left you lips did you notice your hands were bare. You found your culprit in Vergil, who was leaning against the wall thoroughly engrossed in flipping through the aforementioned journal.

"Vergil! Really? You too?"

Dante slapped his thigh and laughed heartily at the unexpected development. Vergil ignored both of you in favor of the pages before him. You opened your mouth to further protest but stopped short when you saw his expression. It was _that_ look, the one that made it seem like the whole world was in the book before him and everything else was merely an afterthought; the one that made Vergil look just like _him_. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you let your fingers brush back some stray locks of hair that straggled over Vigna's forehead and then resumed your seat.

Silence fell over the room with only the occasional crinkle of a turned page to disrupt it. Vergil never spent more than a few minutes looking at the pages, creating a predictable steady rhythm that lulled you into a state of calm. You could almost feel your eyes start to flutter shut when you realized Vergil was taking longer than usual to turn to the next page. You looked over at him just in time to see his features soften. Whatever he saw on the page made him look to Dante. The younger twin seemed to anticipate his brother's gaze and a type of wordless communication passed between the pair. Vigna returned his attention back to Vigna's journal for a time before shutting in a careful, almost loving, manner. He joined you once more at Vigna's bedside as he gently placed the journal to rest atop the summoner's chest and under his hand. 

"We spring from the same roots, he and I. So as much as it pains me to admit, I kind of want our," Vergil paused and pressed two fingers to his forehead before releasing a groaning sigh, "... _half_ _brother_... to recover from this." 

"Haha! Knew you'd come around," Dante let his chair drop to the floor before standing to join his twin, "Have any ideas on how to help him? C'mon, you do, don't you?" He slung an arm around Vergil and grinned at him expectantly. Vergil glared at the arm that dared affront his personal space, but surprisingly did nothing. 

"I do. ______, you must enter his mind and free him from there."

"But how will that work if he isn't awake to bring me in? I don't have that kind of power." Your skepticism didn't come from a place of reluctance, you just couldn't allow yourself to get your hopes up just yet.

"Phantom, gods willing, should serve as both conduit and key."

Given all the different variables at play you wondered if it would work, if it could work. Then you realized, it already had. If Phantom hadn't worked as mental link between you and Vigna, he wouldn't have been able to show you his memories the way that he did. You gave Vigna's hand a quick squeeze.

"Okay, I'll try." 

"Then we shall give you your privacy," Vergil moved Dante's arm from his person and gave you a cordial nod before turning to leave.

"Good luck, _____." Dante flashed you a quick set of finger guns and then followed his brother. Vergil opened the door and there stood Nico and Nero caught right in the act of eavesdropping. 

"Are you certain this child isn't yours?" Vergil's question came out drier than the Sahara. 

"Absolutely." Dante gave this twin a quick clout on the back before shouldering his way out of the room. Vergil heaved a mighty sigh at which Nico and Nero stepped hastily aside and then he too was gone. 

"Hey, uh, sorry about that," Nero began as the abashed pair entered the room, "we just wanted to keep an ear out in case things got too heated or awkward so we could, you know, bail you out."

"Yeah, that's why _he_ was listening," Nico added after regaining her cool, "I'm just nosy." She gave you a broad, teasing grin. 

"Well, I certainly appreciate your sincerity," you responded with mirth, "guess I don't need to catch you up to speed then?"

"Nah, we got the gist of it," Nico shrugged, "we'll leave you to it." As the two made to leave, Nero lingered at the doorway.

"I really hope he makes it out of this," he said kindly before adding with a grin, "bastard owes me a new window."


End file.
